Reincarnated
by the typewriter improviser
Summary: Nikki's life going from mundane and slightly depressing, to dangerous and exciting can be linked to the appearance of a black Impala coming into the Janesville's impound lot. After Nikki experiences events that shake her to he core, even Sam and Dean Winchester are unsure of what they are up against. Sorta Sam/OC-ish Sorry for the bad description
1. Chapter 1 (Prologue)

**Hi! **

**Well, this is my first story on this site. Just thought I'd put a little note at the beginning. **

**I think I'm going to post the first few chapters today, see if people like it before I continue. **

**If you do like this story, **_**please **_**tell me! Reviews are welcomed and encouraged! But please, only constructive criticism. **

**Enjoy!**

_**Christianne**_

_****I do not own Supernatural****_

**Update: This is more of a prologue, the real story starts in Chapter 2...**

Nikki POV

I hate my life.

Really. I hate it.

All of it.

It sucks.

"Maybe this is hell." I sighed dramatically, falling to sit in a chair as I thought outloud. "Maybe we were all bank robbers who died in a shootout or _something_, and now we're in hell."

"Shut up Nikki." Travis sighed, brushing his hand through his light brown, cropped hair before settling back on the stool he had been perched on before he got up to clear a table, and continued to type on his laptop.

"Seriously!" I say, louder this time, as I fought with the knot that kept my waitress apron tied around my hips. "That's _one _possible explanation for why we're all trapped in the un-Godly place!"

"If you hate is so much, quit." Wendy said from her place behind the counter. She had a small section of her bright red hair pinched between her thumb and forefinger, splaying the ends out as she looked at them with scrutinizing, narrowed blue eyes.

"No." I moaned, slouching more in my chair. "Then I'll really be in hell...I mean, no one to talk to, not even you two idiots."

"Hey!" Wendy said, sounding offended. Travis just sent me a glare. Travis was a man of few words; he'd only spoken ten words to me today, 'Shut up Nikki' made 13.

"Oh you know I don't mean it." I said, waving her off. I fell back and laid across two chairs, my butt on one, my upper back on another. I pulled my arms up from my sides, and covered my face with them.

Bored. I was **so **_bored_. And sadly, this was a normal day for me. Sitting in a nearly empty dinner, waiting for something to gain my interest, and swimming in my own thoughts. I didn't like that last point at all. Some of my thoughts I didn't want to think about.

"Wen," I called from my spot laying on the chairs. "Wanna make more shirts?"

A few months ago, Wendy and I had broken down. Desperate for something to do, we made shirts to wear as optional uniforms. They were pretty simple; various colored v-neck t-shirts with 'CJ's Restaurant and Bar' written on the front in an artful, creative way I designed it myself). After we made stencils and hours of careful painting, we ended up with a handful of shirts that we were ridiculously proud of.

"No, I just redid my nails," Wendy answered me, dropping her hair to gaze at her perfectly manicured, petal pink nails. I frowned at my own nails, unpolished and bitten. I should have listened to my foster mom when she told me biting my nails was a bad nervous habit.

"Excuse me?" I heard an annoyed voice say from the front of the restaurant. "Are any of you going to take my plate?" A snotty (obviously tourist) girl asked, glaring at me, while the older man, her assumed grandfather, across from her sighed and shook his head.

"I didn't hear a 'please' in there, so wait your turn." I said casually to her, making her huff and cross her arms and her grandfather, who I happen to know (He came in almost every day and always asked me how my day was going), chuckled at me and shook his head, not in disappointment like before, more of a the 'Well, you're one of a kind' derision filled head shake I got a lot.

I've been told many times, mostly by Wendy, that I could be 'sassy.' I didn't think I was sassy, or mean (Thanks Travis), I was honest. I didn't lie when it came to every day crap. I had enough of that in my first eight years of life, thank you, foster care system.

Eventually, I cleared the plates of the snotty tourist girl and her nice grandfather. He gave me a nice tip for dealing with his granddaughter, and smiled at me as they left. I kissed the five dollar bill as I put it in my pocket. At CJ's, yee who clears the table, keeps said tip.

"Hey, Trav, gonna help me with these?" I asked, gesturing to the four plates, three cups and cutlery I had in my hands. Travis just shook his head. "Great." I sighed sarcastically, awkwardly pushing the swinging door to the kitchen open with my hip.

Once I had the dishes on the counter, I reached over the large sink with my left hand, my right was braced against the side of the sink. I got on my tiptoes to reach the drain plug on the top shelf. I grimaced, mentally hating who ever made a sink this wide, and stretched my left arm a bit more.

As I stretched my arm out, and felt like someone was dragging sandpaper over my ribs on my left side. I winced and jerked back, my right hand clapping over my rib cage. I leaned back on the wall opposite the sink and pressed my hand tighter to the dull, burning pain over my ribs. I sucked in a breath and pulled my shirt up slowly.

"Shit." I sighed, seeing the angry pink mark forming perpendicularly over my ribs. I groaned in slight pain as I gently touched the five inch long, half-inch wide, strip of skin. I held in a hiss of pain when my fingertips barely brushed it.

I slid down the wall to the floor and sat on the cool hardwood for a second as I slowly put my shirt down and took a few deep breaths to suppress the pain. It was fairly easy, I had a high tolerance and there wasn't _too _much pain to begin with. I was more freaked out than in pain anyway.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

That's what worked last time. And, going by the results, still works.

"Hey Nik? You ok?" Wendy yelled from out in front.

I took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah, yeah Wen I'm fine!" I yelled back as cheerfully as I could. I gnawed my bottom lip as I looked at the mark again.

I wasn't going to go through this again. I just wasn't.

I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to ignore the mark on my ribs and went back out into the restaurant to the dinner rush.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! **

**Nikki sorta meets Sam and Dean in this one, sorry it's a bit short. **

**Reviews are great fully accepted!**

**~_Christanne_**

Nikki POV

"That's it! Get out!" Travis yelled, ushering the last few drunks out the door. Although Travis was generally a mild mannered, quiet, teddy-bear of a 25 year old, he was _very_ intimidating when he needed to be. He slammed the glass door behind the last of the Thursday night drunken crowd. "...Fukin' drunk idiots..." He mumbled under his breath as he walked through the now empty restaurant back to his beloved laptop.

"Hey, Wendy," I said, snapping my fingers between my friends face and her phone. "Stop sexting, clean the windows." I said, trying not to laugh.

"I did it last night, your turn." She said simply, waiting for a reply as she bit her lip.

"No, you were _supposed _to do it last night, I did them last night." I told her, only to have her furiously texting again. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her phone from her, sick of waiting for her to send a message. She glared at me, snatching her phone back and spun around to sit on the counter, her back to me.

"Sure, I'll do it," I muttered, grabbing the glass cleaner and a rag from the cabinet in the back of the restaurant. "It's not like I still have stuff I want to do tonight, or get up at six am to open up..." I complained under my breath as I walked to the front of the building, smacking Wendy with the rag on my way out.

I walked out onto the porch, sprayed the cleaner on the rag and started the tedious task of cleaning the windows. It was easier to do them at night, mostly because some stupid drunk always threw up on them, and the other idiots got them smeared with handprints as they stumbled out.

As I wiped the glass panes, I thought. Which for me, is either very good, or very bad. It really depends. Now, my thoughts would be put in the sub-category 'Boring' under 'Good'.

I was born in Peshtigo, a small town in northern Wisconsin. When I was six weeks old I was put into the foster care system.

When I was 11, and at my thirteenth foster home, my foster family was contacted by a woman who claimed to be my great-aunt on my mothers side. When I was 12, she asked my caseworker for me to spend one weekend a month, and seven days a month during the summer with her at her home in Janesville, Pennsylvania.

That was my life until I was 17 and went to college, then, my aunt Gertrude had a stroke. In her living will, she said that if I wanted my inheritance, I was going to live in Janesville, and take care of her home while she was away.

So, I put my education on pause. The hardest decision of my life. I worked since I was 14 years old to get money into my college fund and studied my ass off in high school to end with a 4.0 to get a crap load of scholarships. I was in my final year when I had to quit. And yesterday, I got a letter saying they wouldn't keep my spot. I had six months left, and they weren't going to keep my spot.

I groaned, and was considering smashing my head threw the window. My life had turned around, it was like someone put on the emergency brake and put me in reverse.

I was going to be one of these success stories, the type of person school's would invite to speak to kids about how 'just because you start on the bottom you don't have to stay there'. Now, I was a college dropout, with no money, not life (i.e. no boyfriend), and was in a dead end job.

I heard the rumble of a truck, and in the reflection of the glass, I saw a tow truck turn the corner, a shiney, black vintage-looking car was being pulled behind it. I almost cringed. Max, the owner of the auto shop, had a habit of towing cars that weren't in the city limits. He had a permit and permission from the sheriff to tow any abandoned cars inside the city limits, but he ignored it constantly. Last time Max towed a car, you could hear Sheriff Wells yelling at him all the way at CJ's, seven buildings away from the police station. I shook my head as Max turned the corner with the car, he was gonna get it.

"HEY!" I heard a deep, severely pissed off voice yell. I spun around, and saw a tall, broad shouldered guy running down the gravel sidewalk. As he blew past CJ's, he yelled

"THAT'S MY CAR, BITCH!" I watched with a slightly amused look on my face as he turned the corner as Max had, almost falling from making such a sharp turn at such a fast rate.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?" Another voice yelled, this one was just as deep, but had a different sound, you know? I saw another guy running down the sidewalk, this one was taller than the first guy and he was carrying a gas can.

"Hey!" I called to him, making him skid to a stop. He leaned on a street lamp, his chest heaving as he panted from running. He raised one hand to wipe his face with his jacket cuff before he looked at me.

"Cut through the alley over there, take the second right and then a left," I said, only slightly distracted; because ho-ly _crap_ this guy was good good looking. His hair was a bit shaggy looking, and the dark brown fringe hung over his forehead in sweaty clumps. But, the fringe was short enough to leave his eyes unobscured. He had flushed cheeks from running, and a brownish smeer where he wiped his face with his less than clean jacket cuff. His features were slightly boyish, but _did_ have a masculine element. Over all, he wasn't bad to look at. Not. At. _All_.

"It's a...a shortcut to the impound lot." I added, smiling awkwardly.

"_Thank you_," he said earnestly, giving me a quick head nod before taking off down the road, following my directions.

I smiled slightly as I turned back to the windows. It wasn't often we saw new people not drunk of their tourist asses. _And none that look like that._ I thought, looking quickly over my shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'd like to point out that this takes place in Season 1...In case I didn't make it clear...**

~_Christianne_

Nikki POV

_**RIIIINNG! BRRRRR-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! **_

I gasped as I sat up. My eyes wide as I smacked my head to my forehead to push my currently uncontrolled waves out of my eyes.

My phone was blaring from my nightstand, and I scrambled to get it, falling on the floor in the process. I wasn't quite coherent enough to find it easily.

"Yeah?" I got out after flipping my phone open and slapping it to my face. I was on the floor, my bare thighs on the cold hardwood making me shiver.

"Miss Walsh? This is Jim Perry, the head contractor on your aunts house," A gruff voice said formally.

Before my aunt had her stroke, she was having her entire house renovated. New appliances, all the rooms were restored to the original mid-19th century glory, the works. I'd been staying with Wendy in her apartment above CJ's until it was done. "Uh-Huh," I yawned, still waking up.

"I'm just calling to inform you that we have completed all the reservations at estate. My crew will be leaving today and you will be able to move in tonight." Jim continued.

"Great." I said flatly, glaring at the clock on my nightstand. Five in the morning. He called me at five in the morning.

"Yes...Well...Good-bye Miss Walsh, I hope the house is to your liking." Jim said, still formal.

"Goodbye Jimmy," I sighed. "I hope that stick up your ass doesn't poke out your eye." I said in the same formal tone before I hung up and let my head loll back on the side of my mattress. I slowly slid my eyes towards my clock on my nightstand again. Five. Freakin' five. What contractor calls a client at five in the morning to tell them they're done? A crazy one, that's what kind.

I hauled myself up from the floor, and stared around the tiny, closet of a room. Both Wendy and I lived in the apartment above CJ's, and I _hated _it. I didn't mind rooming with Wen, or living above CJ's, it was Wendy's _guests_ that I had issues with. This should sum it up; The wall the head of my bed is against is the wall I share with Wen's room, and I have a scar on my forehead from where a picture frame fell and cut my forehead a few months ago.

After I dug out a clean set of clothes, I went to the bathroom and started the shower. While I waited for the water to get hot, I started to strip down, only to stop when I raised my arm above my head to pull my tank top off, and I felt like someone was stabbing me in my ribs. I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry out from the sudden pain, and dropped my arms to brace them on the sink. I slowly straightened up and lifted the left side of my shirt. With my tank top bunched up just under my breasts, I turned so the mirror had a full view of my ribs.

"Shit." I whispered, seeing that the red mark on my ribs had grown from five inches long and half an inch wide, to almost six inches long and nearly an inch wide. I frowned and sucked in a breath, shaking my head slightly.

I told myself I wasn't going to let this be a problem, so, I'm not letting it become a problem.

After taking a shower and completing the tedious task of drying my thick, long brown hair, I dug around the first aid kit I kept under the sink. I finally produced a roll of gauze and an Ace bandage. I dropped both rolls on the counter as I got dressed. I left my shirt on the counter, and carefully clasped my bra, the hot water from my shower had made the long mark on my ribs redder, more sensitive and downright painful.

I unrolled a lengthy piece of gauze and doubled the two inch long fabric over a few times so it was more like a thick pad to go over the red mark. I awkwardly held it until I had the Ace bandage around my whole midsection a few times. By the time I clipped the end of the bandage to the rest of the rap, the tan stretchy-fabric went from the edge of my bra, almost down to my hips. I sucked in a stuttery breath and shook my head slightly, pushing memories out of my mind.

I pulled on my shirt, and after quickly making sure it wasn't obvious I had an Ace bandage over my entire middle, I left the bathroom and made a beeline for my room. Once there, I grabbed my camera from the top shelf of my bookcase along with my jacket and happily left the apartment

(Wendy's _guest_ was still over). I shivered slightly as I stepped out into the chilly morning air. I pulled my jacket tighter over my body and headed towards the woods with my camera.

Photography was a hobby of mine, has been since I was 11, when my foster mom gave me my first _real _camera. They were cleaning out their attic and found a camera from the 1940s, it belonged to my foster mom's dad. I just fell in love with it and after two solid days of begging, I woke up to see the shiny, slightly abused camera on my nightstand.

I bit my lip in concentration as I used my thumb nail to get the thick gunk of dirt and dust off the shutter as I walked towards the woods. I hadn't had the time to take pictures in the woods since I came to Janesville, and the early morning's dull light, dew and dust were going to make some fantastic pictures.

After a ten minute walk, I reached the edge of the woods. I raised my camera to my face and took a picture of the dark woods, the morning light filtering through the thick foliage of the trees and the foggy-white mist that was spilling threw the brush at the forest floor. It looked...Well, erie, to say the least. But, it was a beautiful type of erie. If that make any sense. I sighed at the satisfying clicking sound that came from my camera, and continued into the woods.

It was about ten minutes later when I started to feel...Off. Like someone was watching me. I lowered my camera, and carefully turned in a slow circle, listening to the quiet sounds of the woods in the morning.

My left side began to throb with pain, I winced and gently put my right hand over the section of covered flesh that felt like a white hot iron was being pressed against. Another spasm of pain shot through me, radiating from my side. Then, another type of pain started, this time in my head. My other hand smacked against my forehead, dropping my camera.

I'm not sure in what order the next set of events occurred, but I think it went like this;

I had my eyes pinched shut tight in pain, but my eyes still hurt from a light that was shining directly into my eyes.

The burning in my head continued, pushing against the light that was stabbing into my pupils, drilling into my skull.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. The hand was warm, but cool at the same time. It dulled the pain in my side, but the pain in my head grew. The hand on my shoulder stayed, while another hand rested on the side of my face, dousing the burning pain.

While the pain subsided, I screamed. I screamed like I was being set on fire. And I don't know why. I wasn't in any pain. I didn't want to scream. It was like I was a puppet on strings, someone else was making me scream.

Then, there was the voice. It was...Well, it was _powerful_. As is spoke, I almost felt like someone was leaning over me, whispering in my ear.

_Memor esto hujus, gassagen meum. Cum tu duobus duo occidere._ It said. The language was unfamiliar to me, but the voice...The voice was nagging me. It was familiar.

_Cum tibi vincula occidens finem vult, alter qui occidit in ore gladii. Parvulus concupiit tu es, filia Michael honoratum. Navem tu de tenebris in lucem cursum tenet, et lapis quem gladium acutum. Hoc est periculosum iter, evolat alis suis, et domo praesidio non licet. Votum inveniam viam aut creare, ut custodiant te._

The voice stopped after that, and the next thing I felt was a light pressure on my forehead.

Then, I'm gasping for air like I've been underwater, standing at the edge of the woods. I was looking around wide eyed, trying to gage where I was, and how much time had passed. Judging by the still low sun, fifteen minutes max. It felt like hours.

I blinked a few times, clearing my head. My head was swirling, trying to process the events that just happened. I raised my right hand and gently set it on my ribs, which were completely pain free.

I just stood there for a second, trying desperately to suppress the memories that the last five minutes had dug up. I was nine years old. Three weeks away from my tenth birthday. I was never really a popular kid on the playground, I was always alone. Well, _alone_. I had an imaginary friend. I was playing with her, my imaginary friend, in the woods one day, when a light came. It was tall, taller than any building I'd ever seen.

It was three hours later, and I found myself on the edge of the woods. When I was found walking home by my social worker, she asked me where I'd been. I remember exactly what I'd said. 'Me and my friend and the bright man were playing. The bright man told me I was special and that I was missed and one day I'm gonna help save the world from the bad man down there.' I pointed to the ground, indicating hell. Those words took a year of my life from me.

Jolting back to reality, I sat on the ground, and thought of happy things.

Puppies. Cookies. Rainbows. Etcetera, etcetera...

"It's not real, Nikki," I sighed, raking my hair back, playing with a few loose strands. "None of it's real." I was about to repeat the words, when a twig snapped behind me. I whirled around, and heard what sounded like a massive bird taking off, but saw nothing.

After ten minutes of repeating the phrase 'It's not real, Nikki. None of it's real.' I got up from the damp ground and started towards CJ's again. Going by the time on my phone, it was almost six-thirty, opening time.

I was walking down the gravel sidewalk with my hands shoved in my pockets, and my gaze up towards the sky. Made me feel a little better.

It was going to be a beautiful day, I could tell. The morning clouds were starting to clear, showing a beautiful, clear blue sky. Despite the chill in the air, it was going to be a beautiful day. And, despite what I'd already been through, it _was_ a beautiful day. Until I tripped over something, sending me tummy first onto the gravel.

"Whus goin' on-_Shit_! Are you ok?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter! **

**I know I only have four chapters up, but should I even continue? If I should, any ideas on a better title?**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

_It was going to be a beautiful day, I could tell. The morning clouds were starting to clear, showing a beautiful, clear blue sky. Despite the chill in the air, it was going to be a beautiful day. And, despite what I'd already been through, it __was__ a beautiful day. Until I tripped over something, sending me tummy first onto the gravel. _

"Whus goin' on-_Shit_! Are you ok?" A vaguely familiar voice asked. It was slurred and drowsy in the beginning, but surprisingly alert at the end. I shook my head slightly, clearing the shocked haze from falling, and then looked over at the owner of the voice. It was the good looking guy from last night, the one I'd given directions too. He swiftly stood up from the gravel where he had been sitting.

I pushed myself over onto my back, letting air get back into my winded system. I looked up at Good Looking Guy, really, I mean _looked up_. He was tall. _Really_ tall.

"You're very tall, you know that?" I said as I gazed up at him.

I think I hit my head.

The Good Looking Guy's face, although it was clearly concerned, changed to smile at my remark. "Yeah, I've noticed." He said lightly, going along with my comment. Good Looking Guy then held his hand out to pull me up. Such a gentleman.

I took it, with a sheepish smile on my face that almost matched the Good Looking Guy's. He pulled me up easily, _really_ easily. Seriously. He pulled me up like I weighed nothing, not 12-eh..._119_ pounds.

Once I was on my feet, I stumbled forward a bit from the extra force he had used, and ended up crashing lightly into his chest. Jeez, if he's this muscular, he must have been running a long time to be panting and out of breath like he had been last night.

"Sorry," Good Looking Guy said again, quickly dropping my hand and combing his lengthy hair back with his fingers before jamming his hands in his jacket pockets. I saw his eyes looking over me, like he was analyzing me for injuries. I saw his gaze at my tummy and hands a bit longer that the rest of me, seeing the gravel dust on my unzipped jacket and my t-shirt and the angry pink marks on the palms of my hands. I ignored the fact that his eyes lingered on my shirt, which had been yanked down from my fall, exposing a bit more than I meant to up top. He quickly averted his eyes not a second later, his cheeks tinting pink.

"Meh. Not your fault," I said honestly, discreetly pulling my shirt up a bit. "Just out of curiosity...Why were you sleeping on the ground?"

"'Cause he called heads on the coin flip for the bench." I heard another voice say. I saw, I assume, the guy who crashed into me last night, sit up from the bench. "Didn't 'ya Sammy?" He added, grinning a lazily at 'Sammy.'

I liked Good Looking Guy better. It suited him better. But, hey, whatta 'ya gonna do?

But, I had to say, the guy who'd woken up on the bench was pretty good looking too. He had short, cropped blonde hair and dark green eyes that were looking me up and down shamelessly. He had stubble on his jaw, more than what would be there after sleeping on a bench.

"Why would you have to flip for the bench in the first place?" I asked, getting back to my original question.

"Wasn't enough room for both of us," Green-Eyed Guy said, his voice was husky and deep, with a cocky undertone. This, no matter how attractive, made his smart-ass comment more annoying. I rolled my eyes at him and looked back to Good Looking Guy, _Sammy_.

"Our car got towed. When we got here, the guy had left already. We were waiting for him to come in this morning to get it back." Sammy explained. "There aren't hours on the door, you know when this place opens?"

Oh my _God_ did this guy have puppy dog eyes. It was like I was looking at a puppy who wanted to know why he was left out in the rain all night. The thing is, I'm not even sure he was aware of it. …They were the prettiest shade of blue around the edges, then a ring of a grayish-green, then more blue. It was like a kaleidoscope of color.

"Uh...Um...A-Actually, it won't be open until Monday morning. The owner went on a fishing trip. Probably left minutes before you guys got here." I said, momentarily stuttering in the beginning. _Damn_ his eyes should come with a warning sign.

"_What_?" Green-Eyed Guy asked, jumping to his feet, while Sammy closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, head tilted down. It looked like he was trying to ward off a headache. While Green-Eyed Guy, after jumping up, was loudly ranting about the 'bitch' that took his car. I actually think I learned a few _new_ swear words. And I didn't exactly have the best language at times.

"Are you done?" I asked a few minutes later, when Green-Eyed Guy's ranting had slowed.

"Yeah, he's done." Sammy said, putting a hand on Green-Eyed Guy's shoulder and forcing him to sit down on the bench.

"Where you guys past the city limits sign when you ran out of gas?" I asked, a plan forming in my head. It'd piss Max off _so_ much, but he was, as Green-Eyed Guy said, a "_fuckin_' bitch," and it was kinda funny to see Max's face turn purple.

"No, passed it when we were chasing the tow truck. Why?" Sammy answered, his eyebrows knit together in slight confusion.

"Oh. Ok then," I said, looking to the fence.

"You two aren't opposed to a little breaking and entering, are you?" I asked, looking at them out of the corner of my eye.

"No," Green-Eyed Guy said casually.

"You can't break in," Sammy said. I knew he didn't mean 'can't' in a morally wrong way, more of a 'we've tried' way.

"Yes I can. Would one of you give me a boost?" I asked walking closer to the fence...10 feet maybe? Yeah...I think I could climb over that. Been awhile, but I think I still have it in me.

"It's an electric fence," Sammy pointed out in a slightly, _slightly_, annoying way and nodded towards the sign. Despite that, he looked concerned that I'd suggest climbing an 'electric' fence.

I rolled my eyes and fell backwards to lean against the chain link fence, making both Sammy and Green-Eyed Guy shout 'Don't!' simultaneously. They looked at me leaning on the chain link with confused eyes. Green-Eyed Guy cautiously tapped the fence a few times, before grabbing it and shaking the whole flimsy thing. Shaking the chain-link fence was something I could do, but Green-Eyed Guy shook it so hard it I thought he was going to rip the whole section of flimsy fence off the rails, even shaking the rails.

"Damnit!" He yelled, kicking the fence.

"Barely half this town had _internet_, you think these hicks could set up-let alone _maintain- _an _electric fence_?" I asked, laughing slightly at the expressions on their faces. "So...How about that boost?"

"Nah, I think we got it from here sweetheart," Green-Eyed Guy said with a crooked grin before he jumped up onto the fence, easily getting halfway up the ten foot fence and climbed over easily, jumping to the ground from the top. He sent me a wink before he turned and ran towards the black car, crying 'Baby!'

"Thanks, by the way. For the directions last night and showing us we slept in uncomfortable positions all night for nothing." Sammy said as he started to climb the fence. Those long, easily trippabul legs got him over the fence faster than Green-Eyed Guy, who, by the way, was in the driver's seat practically hugging the steering wheel.

I smiled and helped Sammy get the gas can through a small hole in the fence. "Anytime Sammy," I said as I dropped my hands back into my pockets. He spun around and walked back several steps back to the fence and looked at me with this annoyed look on his face that I honestly wanted to giggle at.

"It's Sam." He said, despite his annoyed face and his serious tone, I still think he had a little bit of the puppy dog eyes going on. I started to back up slowly, my hands up in the 'unarmed' fashion and shook my head slightly, a smile still on my face. He rolled his eyes at my actions and headed to his buddy's car.

Sam. That fit him. **Sam**_. _Sam. _Sam. __**Sam. **_


	5. Chapter 5

Nikki POV

"Hey!" I called through the building as I opened the door, greeting the other two people.

"Nikki!" Wendy cheered, far too enthusiastically.

"Ow!" I yelped as an orange hit my shoulder, then fell to the floor with a _Splat!_

"Aw! Why didn't you catch it?" Wendy pouted from her spot at the counter, another orange in her hand, this one half eaten. 

"A heads-up would have helped," I mumbled, picking up the orange and tossing it in the trashcan, then I grabbed a few paper towels, wadded them up and got the juice that had gotten on the floor. After getting all the fruit juice, I stood up from my crouched position and looked at the restaurant. 

CJ's used to be two different restaurants; Chuck's Dinner, and Jay's Bar, owned by brothers Charlie and Jeremy Ross. They were twins actually. In the early 80s, they moved to Janesville after being traveling salesmen for forty years and built up the two biggest establishments in the town. About three years ago, Charlie went hunting, nothing out of the ordinary, both Ross brothers were avid hunters. Charlie never came back.

I didn't hear about it for almost a month. I was crushed. Charlie, or Chuck as he liked to be called, and Jeremy were like the grandfathers I never had. I was seventeen at the time. My foster brother, Chris, was twenty-four, and offered to drive me all the way from Wisconsin to Janesville, which was in Pennsylvania, for the funeral.

Jeremy, formerly Jay (He didn't answer to it after Chuck died), wanted desperately to keep his brother's memory and work alive, so he tore down the wall between the diner and the bar, and merged the two. It was really an odd looking place. The bar half of it was covered in wood paneling, the booths and stools covered in dark red, scratchy fabric. The dinner half was clad in faded, peeling red and white checked wallpaper. Both sides were so full of pictures and other things collected over the years you could barely see the walls, so it didn't really matter what they looked like. 

"Hello Nicolette." I heard a gravely, deep voice ask me as I started to put chairs down from the tables.

"Hey Jeremy," I sighed, looking over my shoulder at the older man, who had managed to sit open the door, walk to the back of the place, and sit behind me silently. 

"You ok?" He asked, his watery brown eyes looked concerned. 

"Yes Jeremy," I sighed, like an annoyed teenager talking to her mother. I rolled my eyes when Jeremy wasn't looking. He chuckled and patted my shoulder as he walked out of the dinner. Although CJ's was Jeremy's whole life, he lived in a cabin somewhere in the woods. He took me there on one of my first visits when I was a kid, but he politely asked me to wait outside.

"There are two new guys," Travis stated plainly after several minutes of silence.

"Yeah. Max towed their car outside of city limits." I said, hopping up on the counter.

"You helped them break in, didn't you?" Wendy asked, falling into a booth. 

"Yup." I admitted, unashamed. They both looked at me with shocked looks. "What?" I asked them, shrugging slightly. They just continued to stare at me blankly. "Oh come on, it's not the worst thing I've done." 

I grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. This was the part I hated. _Waiting_. The daily regulars came in later, so it made all three of us deal with boredom for hours on end. Wendy put her iPod on over the intercom so the silence wouldn't put us to sleep, but the country music almost made blood pour from my ears. I stayed in my spot on the counter, tapping my fingernails against my mug, trying to keep my mind active.

"Hello Nikki," Mr. Gregory, a fifty year old retired Boston police man, said as he came in. 

"Hey Mr.G," I said, heading to the kitchen to help Travis make Mr. Greg's usual breakfast. To keep things interesting, we started timing how long it took us to scramble two eggs and make five buttermilk pancakes. 

Seven minutes and three seconds later (a new record) later, I brought out the plates of food to Mr.G. "There you go," I said, trying to be cheerful to the old man. His thank you was muffled by the loud sound of a car engine driving past and then the louder sound that resulted in the black car lurching to a stop across the street from the dinner.

"Is that them?" Wendy asked, sitting up from her place laying down on the booth pulling me down into the seat across from her. It had a good view of the black car, Sam and Green-Eyed Guy.

"Yup." I said, taking another sip of my coffee.

"Huh." Wendy said, already having made her decision about them. "Did you talk to either of them?" 

"Yeah. The good looking one mostly." I said, distracted slightly. I was trying to figure out what was going on. They had seemed pretty eager to get out of Janesville half an hour ago; Why stop?

That question was answered when Green-Eyed Guy got out of the driver's seat, slamming the door so hard the whole car shook and opened the hood with an angry look on his face. Jeez, he was more pissed-off now than when he was yelling about beating the crap out of Max.

"He's not _that_ good looking," Wendy told me, looking at Green-Eyed Guy. She raised her eyebrows slightly as Green-Eyed Guy moved so his back was towards us, leaning over the engine. Conveniently, giving us a good view of his butt. In my opinion, it wasn't as nice as Sam's, but not too bad to look at that.

"Huh. I'm wrong." Wendy said, her eyes glued to Green-Eyed Guy's ass, tilting her head to one side. 

"You're wrong more often than you think." I sighed, making her glare at me. "Yeah, yeah, he's hot and all, but I prefer the other one." 

He had his elbow up on the door, his hand on his forehead, like he was still trying to ward off the headache. This left most of his nice looking face unseen, you could see it better after he ran a hand through his hair, turning his head and unfortunately, looked right at me and Wendy.

Sam and I stared at each other for a split second, then he said something to Bench Guy who looked over his shoulder at us. I quickly ducked down and pulled Wendy with me out of the window's view. 

"Holy shit they are both smokin'!" She said, eyes wide.

"Oh _shut up_ Wendy!" I hissed at her, getting up and quickly walking to the counter. I hopped up on it, and swung my legs over it, hopping off behind it and landed up on the back counter. 

"Hey," I heard Sam say from the door. I snapped my gaze up from my phone, and looked at him slightly stunned. I tried to think of something witty to say back. Guys liked witty...Right?

"Hey, Sam-Not-Sammy," I said, smiling up at him. _Damn_, he has to be _at least_ 6'3". I'm 5'7", which is a completely normal height, not short or anything, but he made me feel like a dwarf. 

"Very funny," He said sarcastically, shrugging out of his jacket and lazily tossing it on a stool at the counter, then fell into the one next to it. "I-Uh...I never got your name." He stated. I could tell he was trying his best not to act awkward. He was only slightly failing.

"Nikki," I said simply, giving him a slight smile. "I guess your getaway car failed." I added with a nod out the window to the car.

"Getaway car?" Sam asked me, giving me a slightly confused, skeptical look.

"Yeah, from the little B&E earlier." I said with a mischievous smile sent towards him as I tossed my jacket under the counter and tied my waitress apron around my hips.

"Oh," He answered with a chuckle, shaking his head a bit. "Yeah, I guess it didn't go as planned."

"I'll say, now you're stuck here with the rest of us until Max can fix your car." I told him as I grabbed the white boxes of pastries from Travis to put in the glass case. 

Sam chuckled and shook his head as he rested his arms, clad in a loose fitting, worn and stretched white woven thermal and a shirt sleeved, collared red shirt over it. "No, no way _he_-" he jerked his head towards the window, indicating Green-Eyed Guy. "-let's _anyone_ but him touch his car."

"Oh, he's one'a those?" I asked, glancing at him as I put the doughnuts in the tray. 

"Yeah," Sam said with a slight nod of his head. His voice was a bit distracted, and I soon saw why. His gaze was fixed on the chocolate covered doughnut I was holding.

"I should'a given you one'a these earlier," I said as I handed him a menu from behind the counter. 

"Its fine…its fine," he mumbled, already looking at the old, laminated folder. I'm glad he was looking at that. He didn't see Wendy give me a huge grin and a wink. I rolled my eyes at her, then jumped slightly as I heard a slam.

Green-Eyed Guy had slammed the hood of the car shut. His face was screwed up in this cute little scowl as he stormed up the gravel the dinner and opened the door with so much force, that the bell that rang every time the door opened flew up and wrapped around the bar it hung on. 

"Slam that door, I'll spit in whatever you order!" Wendy threatened before Green-Eyed Guy could take one step in the door. His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, and he let the door shut slowly behind him. 

"Car's shot. I'm gonna need more than the tools I have to fix her," Green-Eyed Guy said gruffly, falling into a seat at the counter, resting his elbows on it and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Sam sighed and as his buddy sat next to him. I made a slight face as he grabbed the perfectly cleaned napkin dispenser with his greasy hands, and grabbed a wad of napkins, wiping his hands off, and tried to get a few smears off his face. I didn't tell him he missed a few stops.

_I'd _have to clean the napkin holder off later. 

"Want some coffee?" I asked Sam, and I guess Green-Eyed Guy, when I heard the coffee maker beep.

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Sam said, glancing up at me with an appreciative smile.

"You?" I asked Green-Eyed Guy as I poured Sam a mug of coffee and set it in front of him. 

"No thanks sweetheart, we gotta a gig," He said, sending me a smirk. "And you," He snapped, making Sam look up from his coffee, which he was currently stirring sugar into. "_What_ are you doing? We gotta go find some tools 'ta fix my baby." He said, sounding like a pouting child.

"In the last twelve hours I've ran after a tow truck for four miles to get your car, slept on a gravel sidewalk, tripped a girl and listened to you swear at a car engine." Sam said, still looking at the menu. He paused and took a drink of his coffee before he snapped the laminated pages of the menu shut and looked at his buddy with an exasperated look on his face. "I'm gonna have an omelet."


	6. Chapter 6

**Another chapter! **

**I'm really trying to get Sam and Dean's personalities right, but its harder than I thought it'd be...Any advice would help :)**

**-_Christianne_**

Nikki POV

"So," I said, sitting on the back counter across from the two guys, trying to break the annoying silence. Travis was on his computer and Wendy had fallen asleep in the booth she was sitting in, leaving me no other options for conversation.

"I'm assuming you have a name?" I asked, my question directed at Green-Eyed Guy, who was still scowling into his coffee, which he had reluctantly asked for.

"Well you know what they say when you assume," he said, glancing up at me with a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"Ew. Grouchy." I said, making a slight disgusted face at him. Sam chuckled as he put his fork down on his plate, which still contained half an omelet.

"_That_, is my brother, Dean," Sam said, nodding towards Dean when he said 'that.' Dean sent him a glare, which Sam returned with only an eye roll over his coffee cup as he took a drink.

"So," Dean said, in what I'm guessing was a conversational tone. "You know our names and we don't know yours."

"Sam knows my name," I pointed out to him, making him narrow his eyes. "I guess its his choice if he chooses to share the information I've trusted him with." Sam laughed slightly, just a chuckle threw his nose, as he had a fork in his mouth.

"But, you don't seem like a rapist or a murderer." I stated, pausing to take a drink of my own coffee. "So, my name's Nikki." Dean rolled his eyes, Sam was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Where are you guys from?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"We're heading to New York from St. Louis." Dean said reluctantly, only after Sam gave him a look. I think he would have said it himself if he didn't have food in his mouth.

"Thanks. Good to know. You didn't really answer my question." I said simply.

"What's with the third degree?" Dean snapped, half glaring at me.

"First, I haven't bashed your head into anything, so this isn't the third degree." I said in a tone Wendy called 'sassy,' but I was nearing pissed off territory. "And second, you two are the only people I've talked to in _weeks _that doesn't live here and isn't barking lunch orders at me."

"Oh drop it Nikki," Wendy said lazily from the booth she was in. She sat up and yawned, waking up from her nap. "You're just being nosey."

"No I'm not!" I snapped as I hopped off the counter and took Sam's now empty plate and fork. He sent me a polite smile as I did so. Oh why did he have to be so attractive?

"Now, you're just being rude." Wendy pointed out, smirking at me. I glared at her as I dropped Sam's plate into the buss-tray, Travis would have to wash later.

"Yes. To you." I said casually, taking my place back on the counter in front of Sam and Dean, who were having a quiet conversation between themselves. It looked like they were trying not to be amused by what they were hearing.

"Go to hell," Wendy snapped, flinging her hair over her shoulder dramatically and storming past me into the kitchen.

"Only if you drive!" I yelled to her, making Dean smile for a fraction of a second. "And I call shotgun!" I added, louder, making both boys chuckle.

"Drama queen," Travis muttered, slamming his laptop shut and rubbing his eyes.

"Nikki," I heard Sam say, gaining my attention quickly, easily, and completely. "Is there an auto-shop around here?-Besides the one that towed our car in the first place?"

"It was you boys' car Max towed?" Sid, the sheriff and half of the whole police force of Janesville, asked as he stepped through the door of the dinner.

"Yeah," Dean said, still in a bad mood about the whole thing.

"Ah hell...That kid is 29, and still doesn't get that his only job is to fix the damn cars that come in, and tow them when they call. Damn kid can't tow a car without my permission," Sid grumbled, sitting a seat away from Dean. "I'll have Jeremy get your car to his place as soon as he can." He assured him.

"There wouldn't be a chance of me working on my car myself, would there?" Dean asked, a charming smile on his face that I'm sure got him girls when he needed it to, and made him look just innocent enough to get Sid to agree.

"Just outta curiosity...How did you boys get your car outta the lot?" Sid asked, looking the boys like he looked at all tourists; criminals.

"We...Uh..." Sam tried to form a sentence, while Dean seemed suddenly interested in his coffee.

"The gate was unlocked, right?" I asked Sam, sending him a quick glance I hope told him to play along.

"Yeah," Sam said, acting like he'd just remembered the fact. "The guy must have forgot to lock it when he left."

"I always told him to double check that damn gate before he left," Sid sighed, shaking his head as he stood up. "I'll see you at lunch Nik." He said with a wave over his shoulder as the bell rang, signaling someone had left.

"And he wonders why he didn't get into Harvard," I sighed as Sid left, walking down the street, waving at a few people as he did do.

"Harvard?" Sam asked, laughing slightly.

"Yup." I said with a grin. Sam shook his head as he chuckled, trying to compose himself so he could get a drink of his coffee.

"Hey, think I could get some'a that?" Dean asked, pointing to the apple pie in the glass case.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a ten year old boy whose parents are out of town. It's nine in the morning!" I said sarcastically to him.

"First thing sweetheart, I'm not ten year old boy," He said with a suggestive wink and a charming smile. "And second," he paused dramatically. "It's _never _too early for pie."

"Ok then," I sighed, sending Sam a look. He smiled instantly and started to laugh, which would have been a good thing if he didn't have his coffee up to his face, so he ended up snorting coffee out of the mug, making it go over the mug and onto his face and shirt.

"Smooth," Dean teased as he motioned for me to give him a bigger slice of apple pie. Sam gave him a sort of 'Really?' look as he grabbed a wad of napkins to wipe his face and shirt off.

Huh..._Shirt off_.

It's official.

I've been spending _way _too much time with Wendy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello readers! **

**Sorry this chapter is short…Exams are kicking my ass right now, and even though writing is relaxing a therapeutic for me, this short little blurb is all I can come up with right now. **

**All you readers, you know I love you all, so please, please just give me one review. Please? Pretty pretty please with sugar and a cherry top? *Gives puppy dog eyes and bats eyelashes* **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"Oh. My. _God_!" Wendy said dramatically a few hours later. 

"What?" I asked, walking to my room to start packing it up. Travis said that if I packed everything up, he'd drive it to my house. Well, the house that my aunt owned and I was going to be living in. Wendy offered to help. Well, I think she did. 

"Them!" She said, pointing towards the door. I'm assuming she meant Sam and Dean. "I mean, you're all flirty and shit with them! Stop _hogging_ their Adonis-like-glory!" She pouted childishly. 

"Are you going to help me pack or not?" I asked, grabbing armfuls of clothes and tossing them in one of the many boxes Sid had brought over for me. She rolled her eyes and sighed, flopping onto my bed. "And I don't 'flirt'!" I snapped at her. 

"So, which one do you like better?" She asked casually as I was carefully wrapping my picture frames. 

"I have no idea what you mean," I mumbled as I packed my frames snuggly in a box.

"Oh, _come on_!" Wendy groaned. "I know you haven't had a boyfriend since Mr. Yale, but you're a _woman_ Nik! You can't tell me you don't have a preference between a butt you could bounce a quarter off of, and puppy dog eyes that, I'm sure, would make me drop my-"

"_Wendy_!" I snapped at her, blushing beet red at her descriptions of the boys downstairs. 

"What?" She asked. "You know it's true!"

"I-It-He-Ok, fine it's true! But that's not the point!" I said, carefully packing up more knick knacks and books. "And his name wasn't Mr. Yale, his name was _Percy_." 

"_Then what is the point_?" Wendy practically yelled, while dramatically falling back on my bed. She ignored my comment about Percy. I guess she really didn't like him.

"Don't you think a guy with a smoldering stare and a great butt, and a guy with puppy-dog eyes-" 

"_Panty dropping_ puppy dog eyes," Wendy corrected me. I blushed a bit and threw a pillow at her. Why was _everything _that came out of her mouth dirty?

"Yeah, sure, anyway, don't you think they'd have, oh, I don't know, _girlfriends_?" I asked, stopping to stare at her, my arms full of books. 

Wendy shot up and stared at my with wide blue eyes and her hair a mess from laying on my bed. "Huh. Didn't think of that." She said, frowning a bit. After a few moments, she looked like she was in pain. That was Wendy's thinking face. 

"Enough thinking, it doesn't work well for you," I said, lightly kicking her leg as I passed, my arms still full of books. "Now help me pack!"

An hour later, my small room in Wendy's apartment was packed up and ready for Travis to bring down to his truck. We walked back down, talking about what to do the rest of the day until business picked up. 

"What? What do you mean Monday?" I heard Dean bellow as me and Wendy entered the dinner, our small-talk cut off. 

"I'm sorry boys," I heard Sid sigh. They must have been talking about getting their car into a garage. "Can't get ahold of him, you'll just have to wait." 

I reminded myself to call Jeremy on his cell (a number Sid didn't have) to see it he could let Dean use his garage. 

"Sir, I get that," Sam started, his voice sort of desperate sounding. "But we had a-" 

"Son, there's nothing I can do." Sid cut him off. "And since you boys are gonna be here for a while, see the local landmarks. Get the nice rooms at the hotel. Have another slice of pie." The sheriff continued to list things off as he put his hat back on and walked out of the dinner. Sam rested his elbows on the table, and his face in his hands. Dean was glaring out the window at his car.

"You two want anything?" I asked from behind the counter. Dean shook his head, now glaring at the table top. 

"Yeah..." Sam said, looking up from his cell phone he'd pulled out before. "Is there a place I can charge my phone?" 

"Yeah, up here," I said, gesturing to the counter. 

"Kay...Be right back..." He mumbled, getting up and walking out the door. I saw him grab a backpack out of the back seat before slamming it shut and walking back into the dinner. He slung the backpack up on the counter and unwound the charger cord from the plug in. As he plugged his phone in, I took the wall socket end and plugged it into the socket under the counter.

"Thanks." He mumbled, dropping his phone on the table and leaning back on his stool.

"So...Where are you two _not_ going?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"New York." He said simply.

I blinked at him. "That is the vaguest answer you could have given." I told him seriously. 

"No, the vaguest answer I could have given was 'someplace.'" He corrected me. 

"Ok, now, you're just avoiding the question." I said, leaning on the back counter.

"No, I'm correcting your question." He corrected me. Again.

I narrowed my eyes a bit as I looked at him, and the small, smug smirk on his face. I knew that face… "You went to law school didn't you?"

"Stanford, pre-law," he said proudly. I won't hold that against him. 

"Ah, another piece of the puzzle," I said dramatically, falling into a stool behind the counter. 

"Puzzle?" He asked, checking to see if his phone had a charge yet.

"Vague answers, pre-law student, an old car that was impounded and now out of commission; _dude_," I scoffed. "You are a walking puzzle. I mean, I don't even know your last name." 

He laughed slightly and rolled his eyes. "Winchester." He said after a few minutes. I'd started to read the book I kept under the counter for the slow times during the day.

"Great guns. What about'em?" I asked, flipping the page in my book.

"My last name," Sam said. I looked up, seeing a small smile on his face. "Well, our last name," he corrected himself, gesturing towards Dean, who was still glaring at his coffee.

I grinned up at him. Even though we were both sitting down, he was still taller than me. "Good to know...Sam and Dean Winchester." I trailed off, going back to my book.


	8. Chapter 8

**Another chapter!**

**I want to give a huge virtual hug and cookie to **ghostbuster03** for giving me my first review! You are awesome! And, I've tried to follow some of your suggestions in this chapter. I agree that this is moving a bit slow, but I wanted to set a few things up for later in my story… **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

**Later that day - CJ's Restaurant and Bar - 11 pm**

"Really? _In_ the frying pan?" Sam asked, taking the new beer I was handing him over the bar. 

"Yup." I confirmed, an embarrassed smile on my face. "Opened it up, and there it was." 

"The _bird_," Sam asked, confirming what he already knew.

"Flew out, and right at me." I said, smiling, but my mouth was scrunched up at the memory of my sophomore Home Ec. class. 

"That's..." He trailed off, eventually shaking his head and taking a drink of his second beer when he couldn't think of a good adjective. 

"Yeah." I agreed, leaning on the bar, looking around Sam at the crowded restaurant that had grown _much _louder since I'd gotten Sam his omelet this morning. My conversation with Sam had lasted well through lunch.

"Hey! Can we get a refill over here honey?" A man called, waving his empty bottle in the air.

I sighed and grabbed a tray, along with four bottles, one for the obnoxious guy, and three for his idiot friends. I used the bottle opener on the counter to pop the lids off before I brought them to their table. 

"C'mon sweetcheeks! We're getting antsy!" The guy called again. 

"Whatever happened to a simple 'Excuse me'?" I asked Sam, who nodded in agreement, sending a quick glare to the guys before taking another drink of his beer.

I sucked in a breath before I went to their table, and put on a fake, mandatory, polite smile that Jeremy told us to have on our faces when we delivered food and drinks to customers. 

"Here you go gentlemen," I said, the fake smile still on my face as I set the four bottles down on the table and took the empty ones. "Let me know if you need anything else." I told them, turning around to go back behind the bar. I saw Dean sitting at the same booth he was in earlier, eating a bacon cheese burger I'd made a few minutes ago and looking through what looked like a datebook, busting at the seams with papers

I caught his gaze and he gave me a grin with his mouth full of food, and raised one hand to give me a thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at him, and started to continue back to the bar, where I saw Sam watching me from. I walked back behind the bar and took a long drink of my coffee cup. 

"Everything go ok?" He asked me, his puppy-dog eyes taking in my stressed expression and tired eyes. 

"Yeah...Sometimes you just can't avoid the dicks in life, you know?" I said with a sigh. 

"I'll drink to that," he said, raising his bottle. I smiled and tapped my coffee mug against it before I took a drink.

"This place, at night when it's full of drunks, stresses me out." I stated, resting my chin on my hands. 

"I can see why," Sam said, watching as someone ran out of the bar to the porch, then leaned over the rail and hurled.

"Ah crap. I have to clean that." I heard Wendy groan a few feet away from me. "Hey...Nikki-" 

"Not if you paid me." I said, cutting her off. Sam chuckled at my abrupt answer, and Wendy pouted.

"So, what do you do?" Sam asked me, looking genuinely interested. "I mean, besides refuse to clean up vomit."

I shrugged. "I work here. Every day." I told him honestly. "I try to get out and take pictures-Oh _shit_." I cut myself off, setting my coffee cup down and pacing around behind the bar, thinking of my beautiful vintage camera, sitting in the dirt and wet leaves of the woods.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked me, looking at me with concern coloring his eyes.

"No, it-it's nothing...I just left my camera in the woods this morning...Dropped it..." I mumbled, checking the clock on the wall. Almost midnight. Still had two hours. Then again, I didn't take my lunch break today... 

"Hey Wendy! I'm gonna take my break!" I yelled to her, grabbing my jacket and a flashlight as I jogged out the door and started to walk quickly down the road. I gnawed on my lip as I walked to the woods where I had been this morning. I was honestly a bit nervous to go back there. I didn't want a repeat...

"Hey! Nikki!" I heard someone call. I stopped and spun around, seeing Sam jogging towards me. My eyes widened in surprise, and stayed wide until he came to a swift stop next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, honestly confused.

He shrugged. "It's getting a bit crowded in there, and I thought you'd like some help finding your camera." He said, an awkward smile on his face. "And...You know...It's late, dark out-"

"Aw, you gonna protect me Sammy?" I teased, shoving his shoulder, which was as effective as pushing a parked car. 

"It's Sam," he corrected me again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked beside me. We walked in comfortable silence until we got to the part of the woods I had been in this morning. 

"Yeah...It-It's just up here," I said, walking off the path and up the grass to the woods, Sam followed close behind. I turned on my flashlight and shone it around, trying to find where I had been when I dropped it. I saw another beam shine around; Sam had his own flashlight.

"Boy Scouts?" I guessed, making him look up.

"Huh?" He asked, the flashlights illuminating just enough to see his perfect looking, yet confused features. 

"The flashlight...You know, 'Always be prepared'..." I explained awkwardly, holding my side with one hand, moving my flashlight beam around with the other. 

"Oh...Uh, no, never in Boy Scouts." He mumbled awkwardly.

"You know, I'm surprised you came out here." I said a few minutes later, still looking around for my camera. 

"Why?" He asked, gently kicking aside a leafy branch. 

"Most people are a bit freaked out by the story of what happened in the woods. There used to be a plaque on a tree at the edge of the woods, but Sid took it down a few years ago. He thought it was killing the tourist intake, which is a play on words if you ask me." I explained, still holding my side as I waved my light around.

"What happened?" Sam asked, sounding genuinely interested. I stopped, and shone my flashlight towards him. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the light. 

"Sorry," I mumbled, moving my beam. "Not used to people asking _me _that...Do you want the short answer, or the history major answer?" I asked him.

"History major?" He asked. 

"Yeah, Yale." I said proudly, the same way he said 'Stanford.' 

"Oh...Is there a third option?" He asked, looking away from me as he grinned. 

"Yeah, secret option number three, the curious tourist option," I teased.

"So, in the 1860s, there was this girl, Jane Howard." I started, pausing for a beat to look under a bush. "Her dad founded Janesville, named it after her. When she was younger, she was considered the perfect girl. Any time she stepped out of the house she was surrounded by people. Boys who wanted to court her, girls who wanted to be her friend, adults to wanted her to come to their children's parties to play the piano and sing, it was constant for her.

"When her mother died, Jane's dad, Howard-"

"Wait, this guys name was _Howard Howard_?" Sam asked, shining his light towards me, chuckling. 

"Unfortunate, I know," I waved him off, continuing my story. "Like I said, after Jane's mother died her dad kinda went off the deep end. He claimed he was seeing his dead wife everywhere, that he was having dreams where she's come and kill him, stuff like that. Jane, being the perfect daughter, never left her father's side. Then, he started to get sick. Like, _really _sick. He'd cough up blood, lost a ton of weight...But what killed him was what convinced people he was the victim of witchcraft." I paused again to adjust my Ace bandage and look behind a rock.

"How'd he die?" Sam asked, still sounding genuinely interested. 

"You know the expression 'cough up a lung'?" I asked him. 

"Yeah," He answered, sounding slightly confused.

"Well, Howard Howard _literally, _coughed up a lung." I said, trying to suppress a laugh like I always had to when I told people.

This time, I squinted from a light in my face. "Coughed up a lung." Sam repeated, not as shocked as I expected. 

"Yup." I confirmed with a nod. "Coughed it right up into his lap."

"Are you sure that's what happened? I mean, it was a long time ago-Hey!" He yelped at the end when I flashed my flashlight in his face. 

"I'm a history major. This, is _what I do_." I said, smirking at him as he rolled his eyes at me.

"Ok, ok, so, what? The angry townspeople convict Jane of witchcraft, burn her at the stake and now her sp-her ghost haunts the town?" Sam guessed. 

"Close, but no." I told him. "Howard Howard wasn't exactly the nicest guy, speaking in business terms. He had run countless families into the ground for various reasons. He was like a nineteenth century Al Capone. One family, the Hart family, went from being near royalty, to being average upper class citizens.

"Mary Hart was the wife of the man Howard drove to the point of suicide. She was the one who found his hanging body, and had been in a delirious state for years after. She was practically bedridden by 1864.

"Mary's delusions went from her mumbling to invisible people, to screaming at nothing. Her children ended up having to tie her to a bed at night so she would hurt herself or someone else. One night, one of her daughters, Katherine, stayed with her to see if having someone there would stop Mary's screaming. At midnight, Mary's screaming became understandable. She was screaming about how _Jane _standing at the foot of her bed, chanting.

"The next night, Katherine decided to put an end to her mother's dilutions. She boiled a pot of water just before midnight, and waited for her mother to scream at 'Jane.' When midnight rolled around, Mary screamed at 'Jane', blaming her for her husband's death and the death of her son." I said, feeling ecstatic to talk about this. I loved history. I shone my light in his direction to see his reaction.

"Her son?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing under his brown fringe, over his inquisitive, curious eyes that were the prettiest mix of blue and green, with a bit of hazel mixed in there. _God_ I could stare at them for **hours**. 

"Yeah, not much on him really." I said, sucking a breath and looking away from Sam. "The Hart boy killed himself after being declared a coward for running away from battle, he was in the Union Army, Civil War. Died at 22, unmarried...That's really all I found." I sighed, that still frustrated me. I know the number of buttons on Mary Hart's sister's wedding dress (57), and I can't even find out the oldest Hart boy's first name. 

"Anyways," I said, continuing the story. "Katherine threw the boiling water at the foot of the bed where Mary claimed Jane was standing. It all just fell on the floor, didn't look like it hit anything. 

"Mary started _laughing_. She said 'Revenge has a sweet taste, _Howard witch_!' Then, she died. Just _died_. 

"The next day Katherine told the town judge and priest about what had been happening, and accused Jane Howard of witchcraft. The paranoid town of course agreed on the fact and went to Jane's estate with torches, pitchforks, the whole sha-bang. Jane answered the door half-dressed and wearing a thick black veil, and didn't say a word as they loaded her up on a cart and hauled her to the courthouse.

"She didn't even make it into the building before she was convicted."

"Why?" Sam asked, sounding more interested. Again, I was surprised. No one liked to hear me talk about this. 

"Under her veil, Jane had burns. All over her face, neck, arms, chest...The types of burns you'd get if someone threw a pot of boiling water at you." I explained. Sam's eyebrows rose as I said that.

"Normally, something like that left untreated would kill a person. Since it didn't, the townspeople thought she was immune to heat, so they couldn't burn her. Instead, they tied her hands and feet together, gagged her, and threw her in the river." I finished my explanation.

"Now, Jane, The Witch as we locals call her, haunts the town. Supposedly she has this whole plan about how to get a body again, and anyone who is a part of that plan comes through town and can't leave. They might get sick, lose their keys...have car troubles." I said, sending Sam a glance. "Another version of the legend, is that if you go within fifty feet of the river, she kills you."

"So, the ghost of a witch is keeping Dean's car from driving us out of here?" Sam asked, then laughed. "_Please_ let me tell him."

"Yeah, I guess it is...If you believe that kind of thing." I started, not wanting to sound...You know...Crazy. 

"Do you?" Sam asked, honestly asking. And, I couldn't lie to him.

"Definitely." I said with a small smile. He chuckled slightly at my answer. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" He asked. Seriously?

"Believe in ghosts and stuff like that," I clarified. He stood up from squatting down to look under a bush and shrugged. 

"I think there are some things that can't be explained. Not really into that sort of thing though." He said, and spun his flashlight around in his hands expertly.

"Wait, do that again," I said, turning my own flashlight off and walking closer to Sam. I got an odd look from the tall man next to me, but he flipped his flashlight around in the air, catching it perfectly, easily. But, I wasn't really watching his hands, I was watching for the reflection that I thought I saw. And, I saw it again. 

Sam must have seen it too, because his eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up, trailing his flashlight around the trees. 

"Huh." He said, his eyebrows raising abruptly, almost disappearing under his brown fringe.

"Well I'll be damned." I said, looking up at my camera, hanging by the strap, on a branch about ten feet up in the tree.


	9. Chapter 9

Nikki POV 

"_Well I'll be damned." I said, looking up at my camera, hanging by the strap, on a branch about ten feet up in the tree._

"Hold this?" Sam asked, handing me his flashlight. Still confused as to how my camera, which I'm sure I dropped on the ground, was _up in a tree_. 

"What are you doing-Sam!" I yelped as he jumped up, grabbing a branch above his head. His weight bent the branch easily and I was able to jump up and grab my camera. It took me a few tries to get my camera from the branch, and Sam just found this absolutely _hilarious_. He was laughing the whole time and didn't stop when I finally got my vintage camera off the branch. 

"Oh, you just think it's so funny, hm? Li'l old 5'7 me can't get the camera from the branch?" I asked, rolling my eyes as he continued to laugh. It stopped abruptly though. 

"Hey, what happened?" He asked, taking his flashlight back and aiming it at the bottom hem of my shirt. It'd ridden up and revealed the Ace bandage wrapped around my midsection.

"Nothing," I said calmly, brushing it off and tugging my shirt back down. I looked down at the camera in my hands and frowned as I looked at the back, seeing a small square of red in the film chamber; indicating the film role was finished. "That's weird...I should have at least ten pictures left."

"There have been reports of spirits using cameras to communicate, if they can just press the shutter button, then they can manipulate the film." Sam said, moving to stand sort of behind me, looking over my shoulder and holding his flashlight up to light the back of my camera.

"Yeah, you're _so_ not into this sort of thing." I laughed, looking up at Sam, whose eyes had gone wide, and was struggling to hold a steady smile while awkwardly laughing. 

"I-Uh...I-I had this friend, back in California...He was really into...ghosts...and...stuff." He mumbled, looking away and stuffed the hand that wasn't holding the flashlight into his jacket pocket. 

"Ok," I said skeptically, rolling my eyes. "Well...We should probably head back..." I mumbled, holding my camera close. 

"Yeah," Sam quickly agreed. "Oh-Uh...It's this way," he said, gently grabbing my upper arm when I started to walk in the direction I thought was the edge of the forest.

"...I knew that..." I muttered sheepishly. Ignoring Sam's poorly hidden laughter. 

Like we had before, we walked in comfortable silence. It was weird...The silence between us was almost calming. I idly pressed my hand to my ribs under my crossed arms and felt the slightly raised mark under my shirt and the Ace bandage. It didn't hurt, which was good, but...It just _felt_ different. It felt like there was this...this pull. Like something was pulling, pushing, urging me towards _something_.

"I've seen her, you know," I stated randomly as we walked down the gravel sidewalk.

"Huh?" Sam asked, I guess I pulled him from deep thought.

"Jane's ghost, I've seen it," I told him, swinging my camera from the strap looped over my arm. 

"You've seen it?" Sam asked, his eyebrows raising as he looked down at me. 

"Yeah...A few times actually," I added after I thought for a second. "She was never really doing anything, just standing somewhere by the edge of the woods or the river. When I've tried to come closer, she'd...like, disappear, before I got too close. I told Wendy and Travis...I think they looked in to me being committed." 

"Yeah...It's-That's crazy," he laughed with me, but he looked like he was in deep thought. "So-Uh...What'd she look like?" He asked me finally.

I shrugged. "Same as she did when she died, I guess. Never really got a good look at her. She was always sorta blurry." I glanced up at his face, seeing he was staring forward, his face plainly saying 'That doesn't help me.' "Why are you so interested in this anyway?" I asked as I stopped at the first step of the porch.

"I don't know...Something to do I guess. I mean, there's no way Dean's gonna let me help on his car...and I guess I _am_ interested in this sort of thing." He admitted.

"Well...I was planning on getting my doctorate in American History after I finished my masters, I wanted to write my dissertation on Jane Howard, so I have a lot of research on her and the town...I can bring it tomorrow if you'd like." I offered. I suddenly felt like a teenager being dropped off after a date. I could see Wendy and Travis watching me and Sam from the bar.

"That'd be great," he said with another one of his breathtaking smiles.

"Hey! Sammy!" Dean said loudly as he walked out the door. "C'mon, we gotta push my baby into a parkin' lot. I'm not leaving her in the street all night."

"Yeah," Sam said to him. "See you tomorrow?" He asked me, already taking a few steps back towards Dean's car.

"Yeah, I'll bring my research." I said, waving slightly before I turned and jogged up the steps to the door.

"Ooo, she's bringin' the research, what're you bringin'?" I faintly heard Dean tease Sam. I blushed at Dean's suggestive comment as I went back into CJ's.

**Another chapter updated! **

**Sorry this is short, I'll post another chapter today. I just really like ending with what Dean said, and didn't want to change it. **

**The next chapter should be up later today!**

**Please review! I'm an avid writer, but I usually keep what I've written to myself. I'd really appreciate any advice or just a little comment here and there to keep myself motivated. **

**Until next chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry! Another short chapter. But, hey? Two short chapters in one day is _like_ one normal chapter, right?**

***Sigh* I know this is moving a little slow, and I promise I'm working on it. So, here's the next chapter, enjoy and review!**

**-_Christianne_**

Nikki POV

Once I was safely inside CJ's, I leaned on the glass door and grinned.

"Ok, since when do _you _disappear with the good looking guy for over an hour?" Wendy asked me, cocking her hip to one side before putting a manicured hand on it.

"Yeah, and you _never_ disappear with a guy for over an hour." I said sarcastically. "And even if I did, it's not the _worst_ thing I've done."

I grabbing my pay from Travis and headed back to the door. "I'm going to go home, see 'ya tomorrow," I said quickly, tucking my check into my back pocket as I started the two mile walk to my newly renovated residence.

Travis had offered to drive me, but I wanted to walk. It was calming. Not as calming and interesting as my walk with Sam, but calming enough. The property was only a mile away, but the drive way was a mile in itself. It was dark gravel, imported from some tropical island, and lined with big trees that shaded the wide drive.

The drive wasn't the only impressive part of the house, the house, well, the place was practically a palace, was massive. I pulled out my key, and put it into the shiny, new lock, and turned the old, antique door knob.

After I pushed the heavy door open, and shut it, I turned the shiny new deadbolt and locked the three iron locks that were original to the house. I leaned against the door and looked up at the ceiling. The plaster up at the very top of the ceiling was painted intricately, the restoration people did beautifully, even though I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be from this distance.

I threw my jacket on a coat rack next to the door and wandered into the kitchen, my Converse making slapping noises as they hit the polished wood floor, making echoing noises that bounded around the walls and off the ceiling.

I made sure I had coffee in the cupboard, and then headed towards the stairs. The actual layout of the house was very odd. The mansion was four stories, not counting the attic and basement, and was pentagonal in shape. There was a large courtyard in the center of the house, put there so every room had windows. Every side of the house, also had a large, ten foot wide, wooden spiral staircase, built so no one had to walk far to get to another floor. There were several out buildings, a green house, stables, stuff like that, but they were built to normal 1850's standards. The house was ahead of it's time, and overall, _odd._

I thought about that as I went up the stairs on the kitchens side of the house, walking up to the third floor, where my great-aunt told me my room would be in her last letter. Hopefully, Travis had put my stuff in that room. I hadn't seen in anywhere else, and he'd better not have hid it.

I pushed open one of the tall, white double doors and peered into the room. I had to stifle a gasp and I pushed the door open more.

Even in the dark, the room was beautiful.

Smooth, white plaster covered the walls and ceiling, not a flaw in sight. There was a large four poster bed with filmy white curtains and a matching fluffy white bedspread. The posts of the bed where covered in a pattern made of gold, silver, and what looked like copper leaf, as where the various sofas, chairs, and dressers.

But I wasn't looking in awe at those. I was looking at the walls.

Trees. Tall, almost life size trees adorned the walls, and the leaves curled up onto the ceiling, all except for a foot-square area that looked like it held a clear glass ball, bringing moonlight and distorting the beams so each tree had a vein of white light shining on it. I gently touched one of the trees, feeling the smooth, cold metal leaf.

There had to be thousands of dollars' worth of silver and gold in this room.

I let out a small laugh, unable to hold it in as I leaned on my boxes, all neatly stacked by the door.

"You bitch," I sighed, thinking of how my great-aunt Trudy told me she didn't have enough money to help me buy a car. Apparently, she had enough to renovate the house to palace standards.

After briefly going into the bathroom to put my bag of toiletries and first aid kit away under the sink, I took a quick shower in the large, claw-foot bathtub and jumped into the soft, plush bed.

I was out in seconds, thinking to myself, _I met a cute guy, and I live in a beautiful house. What could make this any better?_


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey readers! **

**Well, I'm home sick today. Not so good for me, but pretty good for you guys. Got this chapter up, and I might get another one up later. I write when I'm bored.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"Jane! Jane, dear, _wait_!" I heard a man call. I just kept walking. I mean, my name isn't Jane. It's Nikki, well, Nicolette technically. 

"Jane!" The man called again, this time I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I whipped my gaze to the hand, seeing a large, man's hand on my shoulder; which was clad in dark purple satin.

I didn't own any _dark purple satin_.

I followed the shiny, dark fabric down my arm and chest and saw a gown. A full skirted, and bustled _gown_. The three quarter length sleeves, cuffed with intricate white lace, matched the white lace that was around the collar. I spun around, shaking the hand off.

"I told you Cassidy!" I said. I felt like I was being controlled, like a puppet on strings. "We cannot speak in public, you agreed!" 

"Please Jane!" The man, apparently Cassidy, said, his blue eyes pleading. It was strange. The man's face was blurry, like I was looking up at someone through water. I could make out the shape of the face, but no details. But the eyes…I could see his eyes clearly.

"It's important. I must speak with you." He didn't let me respond, he just took my hand in his, and pulled me aside, into an ally. My eyes grew wide as I looked at the five foot view I had of the street. 

Horses, carriages, women in long dresses, men with walking sticks and velvet coats that had tails. 

Oddly enough, most of my mind was wondering if I'd be seen. Why would I care if I'd be seen? Was it because of Cassidy? 

"Jane," Cassidy said softly, I felt a gentle fingers under my chin, turning my head. "I got my letter today." He said quietly. "Orders, from the general...And your father." 

"No! That's impossible, I destroyed your papers; your name was not on that list!" I said-Again, like a puppet. But my voice shook with real emotion. Hell, I _felt_ real emotion.

"I know-Jane, darling, this isn't your fault. _I_ am the one who signed up years ago. I was ready then and I am ready now. You must let me go darling." Cassidy said, his own voice shaking, and his eyes glancing down to my own hands, gripping his jacket in a white knuckle grip I didn't know I had. 

"I don't want to let you go." I said quietly, my gaze falling from Cassidy's blue eyes, the only part of his face I could discern, to the ground, seeing the toes of my shoes (dyed the same color as my dress) and the clothes Cassidy was wearing. It was obvious just from what he was wearing that he didn't have the same wealth I _apparently_ had. 

"Janney," Cassidy breathed, taking both my hands off his jacket and holding both of them in one of his, and using the other hand to cup my cheek, making me turn my face to look at him. I felt my cheeks blush and my heart race when I noticed how close our faces where. I didn't understand that. I'd had boyfriends before. And we'd been _way_ closer than me and Cassidy where now, and I wasn't as nervous as I was now. I...I felt...God, I _felt _in love. I stared up at Cassidy's sparkling eyes and I felt weak in the knees, and if they gave way I knew he'd catch me.

It was like I was watching a movie in my head. I wasn't in control of my actions.

I was surprised to feel a tear roll down my cheek. 

"Jane dear," Cassidy said again, using his thumb to wipe the tear off my cheek. He dropped his voice lower, to avoid it shaking I'm guessing. "You _must_. You have to-"

I gasped as I sat up in bed. 

My heart was racing, and my t-shirt was sticking to my torso with sweat.

That, was the most vivid, real dream I'd ever had. It was terrifying.

I looked at the large clock that hung over the fireplace opposite my bed. Five in the morning.

Well, no use going back to sleep when I had to be up in half an hour anyway.

I threw my Converse back, taking a second to marvel at the design of trees on my walls again. Each individual leaf was put on the wall, with a steam that connected it to a branch. It was just beautiful. 

It only took me five minutes to get ready for work. I was practically skipping towards my boxes, as the mark on my ribs was just an angry pink mark, completely pain free. I still had a smile on my face as I started to look for the binder I had all my research on Jane and Janesville in. In no time at all, I had the thick, three inch binder, bursting with notes, photocopies of documents and several typed papers that I had used for school.

I tucked it under my left arm as I unlocked the various locks on the front door, and held my key lanyard in my teeth as I tried to keep my coffee in my last open hand. As I fumbled with the locks, the dull burning was growing on my ribs. Once I was outside and locked the door back up, the mark on my ribs where almost burning as if I was holding a curling iron to my side. I winced, the noise hurting my throat. It'd been sore all morning. 

I dropped my stuff on the porch, setting my coffee cup on the flat rail before I yanked my shirt up to show my ribs on my left side. It was bright red again. I gently touched it, relieved that it didn't flare up in pain. I sucked in a breath, deciding I'd have to wrap it when I got to CJ's. 

I tucked the folders under my other arm and looped my Yale lanyard around my neck as I started down the long drive way, the gravel crunching under my Converse.

Half an hour later, I was unlocking the doors of CJ's. The sun was just coming up, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It made me feel a little better about digging out the first aid kit again.

I didn't bother going in the bathroom to wrap my side, I just stayed in the back of the bar, out of the view of the windows as I lifted my shirt up so it was scrunched up under my breasts and wrapped my whole midsection in an Ace bandage again. 

"Hello?" I heard someone ask after the door chimed. I quickly clipped the bandage end to the rest of it, and yanked my shirt down.

"Hey Sam," I said, easily recognize his voice. 

"Hey," He responded, smiling. I would have guessed he was completely calm and relaxed, but a hint of awkwardness, and, dare I say, nervousness, stayed etched deep in his features. "Uh...Can plug this in?" He asked, flipping open the bag he had over his shoulder, revealing a laptop. 

"Yeah, right up here," I said, gesturing to the counter with a nod of my head as I quickly threw the items back into the first aid kit. 

"You ok?" Sam asked, eyeing the first aid kit as he pulled off his jacket, slinging it over an empty seat next to him. 

"Yeah, fine...There was a bar fight a few weeks ago. I was just checking to see if I needed to get a new kit." I said, this wasn't a complete lie. There was a fight, and I did need to bring a new kit here, that just wasn't what I was doing then. 

"Oh, before I forget," I said, reaching under the counter to get the three inch binder, then dropping it next to Sam as he started up his laptop, now plugged just under the counter top. It made a loud 'Thunk!' as it hit the counter. Sam didn't flinch, he only looked at it, then raised his eyebrows.

"_This_?" He asked, pushing his laptop aside and pulled the binder in front of him, flipping the light blue, plastic covered cover open as he flipped idly through the pages and pocket-files.

"I told you," I reminded him. "I wanted to write my dissertation on this place." 

"Seems like you already did," Sam chuckled, going back to the front of the binder to look through the photocopies I had stuffed into the front pockets. 

I just shrugged, smiling at him as I tied my apron on. "So...Want anything to eat?" I asked, searching for my purple pen.

"Just coffee'll be fine," Sam mumbled, now intently staring at some page in my binder. 

I sighed, finally finding my pen. I put a pot of coffee on, and then went into the kitchen to make my own breakfast; waffles. Not to brag or anything, but I made the best waffles in Pennsylvania, possibly the United States and/or the world. Or, so I was told. 

I grabbed the index card with the recipe scrawled onto it from the box above the counter in the kitchen. As I looked at the recipe, I bit my lip as I thought.

'Makes 2 10x9, 2 9", or 3 8x8 waffles 

The restaurant had a two round waffle irons, nine inches. I didn't want to cut the recipe in half, it called for one egg, and since I couldn't cut an egg in half, it just wouldn't taste right. I slowly looked around the wall, out the square cut out that Travis handed me and Wendy plates through. Sam had decided to help himself to the coffee, I didn't care at all, and was slightly hunched over as he paged through the pages in the binder.

_Well...I don't want to waste batter..._ I thought, gnawing on my lip again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Another chapter! This chapter is super-holy-crap-long, on account that Supernatural is returning tonight!**

**Sorry I didn't get another chapter up yesterday. Wasn't really feeling up to it. **

**I'm feeling a lot better today (Thank you, by the way **ixistargirl89ixi**. I think your review helped me feel better!), and**** went to school, which now feels like a mistake due to the amount of homework I should be doing. **

**Well, I better go do my homework so I'm not doing it after the episode tonight…**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

Ten minutes later, I walked out of the kitchen, with two golden brown waffles. One with a small, round scoop of butter in the center, the other a heavy dusting of powdered sugar. I set the one without powdered sugar in front of Sam and the other slightly kitty corner from his. He looked from the waffle, then to me, a slightly stunned look on his face. 

"Uh...Thanks, but you didn't have to-" Sam started to decline the waffle. 

"Look," I started, cutting him off. "I didn't want to waste any batter." I said with a shrug. "Eat it, don't eat it, you choose." I told him, reaching under the counter to the plastic tubs with clean silverware in them. 

"But," I added before he could speak. "I _have_ been told I make the best waffles in the state." I smirked as I held the fork out to him. 

Sam narrowed his eyes slightly at me, but my smirk didn't waver. He let out a defeated sigh and grabbed the fork. I heard him mumble something, but it was too low to understand, as he cut into his waffle. He shifted his gaze back to the binder as he dunked it into the melted butter.

I looked up from pouring syrup on my own waffle to see Sam's eyes widen slightly as he bit the waffle piece off his fork. He didn't look up from the binder, didn't say anything either. But I knew he liked it. Everyone liked my waffles. It was just a known fact.

"How'd Jane's mom die?" Sam asked about ten minutes later, his mouth full.

I reached over my own, now half full, plate and flipped back to one of the front pages. "She was visiting family in Georgia in early 1861. Her carriage was caught in some early crossfire. Jane was 10 or 11 at the time." I sighed, taking another bite of my waffle. "It's sad really. She's not even buried here."

"What?" Sam asked, quickly swallowing the food he had in his mouth. "But here," He paused to flip through the binder to one of my neatly typed note pages. "It has the inscription for her headstone that was going in the cemetery on the Howard property."

I shrugged, nodding to Travis as he walked in through the back. "It was more of a symbolic thing, you know? They ended up putting one of Gretchen Howard's favorite dresses in a coffin."

"Oh..." Sam said, trailing off in deep thought. "And-And where's the Howard house?" He asked, I saw him grab a pen from his unused laptop bag and a scrap of paper.

"Just outside town." I started, flipping to a more current map of town. "It's circled in red." 

"The red path says 'home.'" Sam said, sounding completely confused. 

"Yeah," I said slowly. "My great aunt lived there until her stroke a few years ago. It was being renovated, had to move out, done being renovated yesterday, I moved back in."

Sam's face flickered with worry, then went back to the indifferent look it normally had. "Oh." He said simply.

"Nicolette," I heard a gravelly voice say from the door. It was as about enthusiastic as it got.

"Hey Jeremy," I called, hoping he got my message and let Dean into his garage and finishing off my waffle. "You done?" I asked Sam, gesturing to his plate. 

"Oh, yeah, thanks," he said, giving me a polite smile as I went back to the kitchen to wash off his plate as well as my own. I was alone in the kitchen, Travis was trying to get Wendy out of bed; it was his day. One thing I loved about this kitchen, was that it was you could hear what people at the bar where saying. It was like because you were behind a door, they thought you went deaf. 

"So...You one'a them boys with that _damn _black Impala that's takin' up all'a the room at m'shop?" I heard Jeremy ask Sam, no doubt as he sat next to him, resting an arm on his cane. 

"Uh...Yes sir," Sam said after clearing his throat.

"You'da one who cussed out Max's brother cuz' 'e didn't let'cha use 'is tools all night?" Jeremy asked him. 

"Uh, n-no sir," Sam stuttered out. I rolled my eyes. Jeremy had this way of staring at someone and making them feel uncomfortable and intimidated.

"Damn," Jeremy sighed. "I owe that boy a drink. Somebody cussin' out Hank is _long_ over due." 

Sam laughed once. "I'm sure my brother will take you up on that offer." 

"What's your name boy?" Jeremy asked him.

"Sam," -Cryptic-and-Mysterious said.

Jeremy sighed. "Boy, I may not be the law, but I wanna know who's in my town and who's talkin' to my lil' Nikki. And 'Sam' ain't good enough."

"Winchester. Sam Winchester." Sammy mumbled out a moment later. I heard Sam type on his laptop, and Jeremy leaned back in his chair. 

"You said your brother was the one with the cussin' and the car?" Jeremy asked a moment later. 

"Yes sir," Sam muttered, sounding almost upset he had to admit he was related to his cussing, green eyed brother.

"'Is name wouldn't be Dean, by any chance, would it?" Jeremy asked casually. 

"...It might be." Sam said slowly, I dropped a dish in the sink as I heard his tone. Normally, it was a calm voice, with the occasional happy, teasing tone, but this was downright menacing. Almost scary.

"Don't get all mother-hen on my boy," Jeremy grumbled. "I knew 'yer daddy. Johnny was one'a'da dumbest, punk-ass hunn'ers I ever met...Never thought a slab a fresh meat like 'im'd teach this old pro sumthin' new."

"You knew our dad?" Sam asked, sounding shocked. "Have you heard from him lately? Has anyone you've talked to heard from-"

"Slow down boy," Jeremy snapped, chuckling at Sam before lowering his voice. "I been outta the game for long while and things have changed out there, but disscussin' things like this wasn't sumthin' I'd a'done with a nosy-Nelly like my lil' Nikki listenin'." Jeremy said in a hushed tone. 

"...She's in the kitchen, I'm pretty sure-"

"Nicolette hunny? Get me a coffee would'ya?" Jeremy said, not raising his voice at all.

"Black? Like usual?" I asked, thankfully walking back out to the bar, so, maybe, if Sam wasn't as smart as I thought he was, he might think I heard Jeremy as I walked in. 

"Yes darlin'," He said, sending me a mischievous grin. It'd been a long while since I'd heard that tone and seen that sparkle in his eye. Ah hell. He was planning something.

I rolled my eyes and got him his coffee. "I'll be back," I said, going over to take a few orders. Every now and then, in between running from table to table, counter to table ect ect, I'd look at Sam and Jeremy, who seemed to be in an in depth conversation. Later, around lunch, Dean joined them. They moved to a booth during the lunch rush, freeing up the bar space.

On my break, I tossed my apron at Wendy and skipped over to the table Sam, Dean and Jeremy were sitting at. "You wanna see where Jane Howard was tossed in the river?" I asked, a mischievous smile on my face as I looked at Sam.

"So, there used to be this plaque thing, on a post," I explained as me and Sam walked (more like slid) down to the banks. I was perfectly capable of going down the loose dirt slope myself, but Sam was constantly grabbing my upper arm to pull me up everytime he thought I was slipping. Not that I minded, I guess. But it bothered me a bit. I'm a _girl_, not a china doll. 

"Used to be?" Sam asked as he grabbed onto a thicker tree branch, and hauled himself over a tree trunk in a way that could almost be called graceful. It was weird. I mean, the guy was _big_, 6'2" at the shortest. It was odd. 

"Yeah, the city council thought it wasn't good for tourism." I said, rolling my eyes. "Idiots." Sam tried to hold in a laugh at my mild outburst.

"I'm serious!" I said, shoving his shoulder, proud of myself when he wobbled. "It's-It's insulting!"

"Insulting?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah!" I said, frowning in frustration. "I mean, Jane Howard might not have even _been_ a witch, and she was killed anyways. And now she's being ignored, like the whole thing was a huge stain on the city."

"When you told me the story last night you seemed pretty certain she was," Sam said, his voice laced with confusion.

I shrugged. "It makes sense on paper, but, _come on_, a witch?" I asked, chuckling at myself. "I guess I go back and forth. You can only rely on 100 year old documents so much."

"Ok, just over there," I said, stopping just as the dirt and trees turned into sand mixed with the gravel they poured on the banks each summer to stop erosion. In front of us was an old wooden building. It used to be (in Jane's day) the mayor's private boat house. There was a little apartment area on the second floor with a balcony, where they threw Jane into the river, I'd already told Sam all of this.

"You commin'?" He asked, looking over his shoulder after taking a few steps onto the gravely sand.

I had my arms crossed tightly over my chest, my right hand pressed tightly to my ribs that were throbbing with dull pain. I took a shaky breath and looked past Sam at the rushing river and the rickety boat house. I'd never been good with water, it scared me to death...And on the other hand, I'm pretty sure Sam (if he didn't laugh at me) wouldn't let me fall in and drown...And there was probably a _ton_ of undocumented information about Janesville in there...

I took a shaky breath and put on a forced smile as I took a few steps onto the damp sand until I was walking in step with Sam. Well, walking next to him; I had to take two steps to match one of his long strides. 

"You been in here before?" Sam asked me when we got to the door. I shook my head, staying silent. "Really? With all that research and digging you did, you never came here?" he asked as he tested the door knob.

"Never came up," I mumbled.

"...Is this place on private property?" He asked, eyeing the door frame and knob again. I shook my head no. "Historical site?" Again I shook my head no.

"No one really cares about it anymore," I said, a touch of sadness in my voice. I may be shaking I was so scared, but I knew the significance of this place.

"Ok," Sam said, sounding like he'd just made a plan. He took a step back, and gently pushed me aside.

"What are you-Ah!" I yelped as his foot came in contact with the rotted door, sending it completely off its hinges and flying back into the room several feet. We stood in silence for a moment of two after that.

"Nice." I amended, my head bobbing up and down slightly. Would have been laughing if my mind wasn't hazy from the sound of the rushing water. 

Sam chuckled as he kicked off a jagged door piece that was stuck on the hinge. "Thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed (going by the pink coloring his cheeks). 

He helped me over the remaining pieces, I was blushing of course. 

It was sorta silent after that, I was looking around the part of the building closest to reals, solid ground, staying away from the part built over the water, unlike Sam. He blew through the first floor, stepping over holes in the floor that were open to the river. 

"Hey, I'm gonna look up top," he told me, going to stand by the ladder. "You want to come up?"

"Uh...Sure," I managed, prying my hand off my ribs to climb up the wooden ladder. Once I was about half up, I heard Sam start climbing up after me.

"Ah!" I gasped in pain when my ribs abruptly started burning. 

"Nikki? What happened?" Sam asked, his hand immediately coming to the middle of my back, easily helping me stay up, as my hand had smacked to my ribs. I took a few deep breaths, trying to suppress the pain. "Nikki?" Sam asked again.

"Yeah-No, no I'm fine," I said, struggling to keep my voice even. "Just...Uh...Just hit a splinter...I think it scared me more than it hurt me actually." I said, getting out a shaky laugh as I forced my hands to pull me up the ladder. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was able to stand on the floor and keep my hand pressed to my ribs. 

"Hey," Sam said, calling me back to the small, uncluttered area in front of the ladder. I looked up at him, my eyes hopefully the picture of innocence. "You ok? You looked like you were in a lot of pain." His hand briefly rested on my shoulder, before he shoved it in his pockets. 

"Oh, no, I'm fine," I insisted, smiling at him. "I guess I just have a low pain tolerance." 

"Oh," Sam said, seemingly accepting my claim. His expressive eyes told me a different story though. 

I felt a smile cross my face as I found a leather bound book under a thick layer of dust and other random objects. It looked like a ledger, made sense I guess; this places was the mayor's privet port. Well, the mayor bought it after Jane, the last remaining Howard, was killed. The mayor only kept it running for a few months before he locked the door and ignored it. I never could figure out why. Maybe, now that I had Sam with to, as Disney as it sounds, protect me, I could find out why. 

"Huh," I said, leafing through the ledger, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"Find something?" Sam asked, dropping what sounded like a book to come and stand behind me. 

"Eh...Not really." I said. "Hey, have you heard of arbutus, asafoetida or buckthorn?" I added before he walked away. 

He'd been looking at a paperweight, but abruptly slammed it down on the table and turned the ledger to look at it. His eyebrows were furrowed as he ran his finger down the list, then moving the book closer to him.

"...Oh my God," he muttered, quickly grabbing the leger from the table and flipped through the pages. I could practically hear the gears in his head turning, so I left him to it. 

I wasn't sure exactly what compelled me to go towards the open doors that lead to the balcony, but that's where I ended up. I cautiously stepped onto the overhanging porch, hearing the wood creek as I put my weight on them. My ribs throbbed, the pain growing more intense. I kept my hand pressed to them as I took another step out onto the balcony. I was far enough out to touch the flat railing. I grabbing it with my free hand, praying that if I fell through, the railing would stay up. 

My breath caught in my throat as I felt deep gashes in the wood. I jerked my hand back the second I realized they were made by someone's fingers; someone holding on tight, holding on for dear life.

As I took my hand back, I whipped my head up, and my gaze fixed to something across the river. It was in the dark shadows, under the trees. My mind finally registered what it was, then, the pain came.

I gasped, but it came out sounding like a muted cough, thank god. 

"H-Hey Sam?" I asked, my voice just barely shaking as I half-stumbled back into the building. "You...You think we could...You know, leave?" I asked.

His eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded instantly. "You ok? You look like you've seen a ghost." He chuckled a bit at the end. It sounded forced, just a bit. I shrugged, and headed to the ladder.

"No." Sam said quickly, looking like he was about to put a hand on my shoulder, but didn't. "Uh...You don't exactly seem...steady on your feet...Let me go down first." He mumbled, easily climbing down the ladder. I went down next, my hands holding onto the bars tightly so I didn't slide down.

"So..." Sam started, but ended up trailing off. We were walking back to town, and with every step I was grateful that I was walking farther and farther away from the pain in my ribs. I was walking comfortably with my hands in my jacket pockets. Sam copied me, the leger under one of his arms. 

"I don't like water." I stated, looking at the gravel. "At all. Never have."

"I wasn't-" Sam started again, but I cut him off.

"It's fine." I said, smiling up at him. "I mean you'd have to be blind not to see how edgy I was the whole time I was in there." Sam's cheeks turned pink slightly as he looked at the gravel we were walking on.

"But, you know, aside from thinking I was going to break through the boards and drown the whole time, I had fun." I said as I opened the door to CJ's.

"Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, I-I did too," he said, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets. "Uh...See you later," he added, stuffing his laptop into his bag. "Mind if I borrow this for a little longer?" He asked, holding up the binder. 

I shrugged. "Not doing me any use. I had to dig it out of a box this morning."

"Thanks," he said quickly, over the bells on the door.

I leaned on the counter, apron in hand, and sighed. He was a very odd man.

Not that I minded.


	13. Chapter 13

**Another chapter up! Yes, I know this seems very short, but don't worry, I'm posting another one right away. **

**And **ixistargirl89ixi**, thank you for the review, and don't worry that'll come later... *smiles mischievously***

**-_Christianne_**

Omniscient POV

As Sam walked away from the dinner, he let out a heavy sigh. He even shook his head slightly, trying to clear it of anything not related to the possible case he was researching.

He walked the few blocks over to the mechanic's shop that Dean was holed up in. "Hey." He said to the pair of greasy jeans and boots sticking out from the bottom of the Impala.

"So...Where have you been? Disappeared on Jerry and me earlier with _Nikki_." Dean said, a smirk on his face as he got out from under the car.

"We found this boat house," Sam started, dropping his backpack on the floor next to a chair.

"Oh?" Dean asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow at his brother. Besides the opportunity to tease his little brother, Dean was glad Sam was moving on. Granted, Dean thought he should have moved on about three jobs ago, but moving on is moving on.

"We-Oh _c'mon _man! Get your head out of the gutter," Sam snapped at him, falling into the chair. "_Anyway_, Nikki and I went to this boathouse, where Jane was tossed in the river.

"EMF? Thinkin' cursed object?" Dean asked, getting back under his baby's hood.

"Nothing, but listen to this," Sam paused to flip open the ledger to the page Nikki had found. "Arbutus, asafoetida and buckthorn."

Dean's head popped up from the hood. "That's some heavy duty hoodoo."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "All used in purification, exorcism, protection and demon vanquishing spells."

"_Demon vanquishing_ spells." Dean repeated. "Don't most witches get all cosy with demons?"

"Hey, I thought so too, but I looked in dad's journal, and it say's this is some pretty rare stuff." Sam went back to the ledger and flipped through the pages. "I did some digging into to some of the other stuff in here. It's practically a cookbook to all things hoodoo."

"So, this Jane chick was a witch and now she's haunting the town that took her for a swim." Dean stated.

"Yeah...I don't think so." Sam said, frowning at the only explanation he saw that made sense. He opened up his laptop and set it on a work table. "I looked into the towns more recent history." He turned the laptop screen so Dean could see.

His brother, while cleaning off a car part in his hands, leaned forward to see the screen. "Nothing until about...ten years ago?" He asked.

"Eleven." Sam corrected him. "First thing, a bus passing through stops. The thing just stopped running. It spends a week in the garage here and then eight days later, it just started, like it was never broken to begin with."

"So? The garage had a crap mechanic." Dean said, shrugging it off.

"I did a little digging, and asking. That week was the first time Nikki came to Janesville for a visit with her great aunt." Sam explained.

Dean shut the hood of the black car and leaned on the hood. "You think Nikki's the one being haunted."

"She's been the center of everyone of the sightings. The bus was the one that brought her to Janesville. Her aunt had to call a car to drive her to the stop in the next town over. She left at noon, by 12:30 the bus was running again." Sam stated.

"But...Maybe...She...Well what the hell are we dealing with?" Dean asked, tossing the rag next Sam's laptop on the bench as he get back under the car.

"I don't know." Sam admitted, frowning as he flicked the rag away from his laptop.


	14. Chapter 14

**As promised, the next chapter. **

**This is one of the last chapters in this praticulare story line, I WILL keep going though. :)**

Nikki POV

I rolled over in my soft bed and looked out the window, seeing a thick layer of fluffy clouds covering the direct sun. It was probably going to rain today.

I so didn't want to get up.

I wanted to just stay here, in my warm bed.

But my throat was screaming for water. I felt like I had been gargling sand.

After I checked my phone, making sure it was in fact my day off, I skipped down the stairs in my pajamas (which consisted of a oversized t-shirt with 'Yale' on the front in faded letters and panties) and got a glass of water. I chugged it down quickly. I idly thought that the last time my throat had hurt like that, was the day after I went to a football game with my then-boyfriend Percy. I'd been screaming for almost four hours straight, then screaming six more hours at the party we went to after. I shrugged it off, and jumped when I heard the sound of someone knocking the large brass knocker on the door.

I looked over my shoulder at the clock on the microwave, it read 10:19. Not early enough for me to pretend I was still asleep, not late enough to pretend I was already out. I let out a sigh and grabbed the coffee cup. I tugged my t-shirt down as I walked, coffee in hand, as I walked to the door.

"Who is it?" I asked through the closed door.

"Uh, it's Sam," I heard through the door, then some mumbling and what sounded like a few punches.

"And Dean," another voice said, sounding annoyed.

"Yeah, Dean's here too." Sam added, clearly annoyed with his brother.

I rolled my eyes and started to undo the three heavy iron locks, and the one shiny new one. I opened the door halfway and leaned on it. "Hey." I said simply.

"Uh..." Sam trailed off, cheeks blushing as he looked away from me. He obviously wasn't expecting me to be half dressed with my hair down.

It was my day off! What _did _he expect? Dean, on the other hand was slowly looking me up and down appraisingly. He ended back at my eyes, his green ones had a glint in them that I recognized from Wendy's eyes every Saturday night.

"Uh...Y-Yeah, hi," Sam finally said, seemingly very interested in getting my binder out of his backpack. "Um...Travis said it was your day off, and-and I just wanted to give this back to you." He said, handing it to me.

"Thanks, that empty spot in the cardboard box was bothering me," I teased lightly, tucking the binder under my arm.

"This is great house you have, by the way," he added quickly.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged. "It's a house."

"No," Dean said, chuckling as he shook his head. "No, a split level in the suburbs is a 'house.' This is a friggen' castle." He finished, walking into the foyer, raising his voice at the end so it echoed through the high ceilinged room.

"Sure, come in, make yourself at home." I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"I'm sorry about hi-" Sam started, I shook my head and smiled.

"It's fine," I sighed. "I had a foster brother like him." I mumbled under my breath. "C'mon in."

"...Wow." Sam said, looking around the foyer, and the other parts of the house you could see from it.

"Uh, yeah, so, the kitchens to the right, around the corner, make yourself at home, I'm going to...go...put on pants." I said awkwardly, backing up towards the staircase.

"Nah, your fine. We don't mind, do we Sammy?" Dean asked his brother, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. Sam shoved him away, his cheeks blushing pink as he sent his brother a glare.

Omniscient POV

"_Holy shit_, man!" Dean said to his brother as loudly as he could without Nikki hearing, grinning from ear to ear as he leisurely walked to the kitchen and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the granite countertop.

"You see the knocker on the door?" Sam asked, trying to get back to the point of their whole visit.

"Man, look at the size of this fridge! This is half the size of most of our motel rooms!" Dean mused, grinned from ear to ear as he looked inside the industrial sized fridge that took up almost half the wall it was in.

"It was a raven," Sam continued, mentally agreeing that it was a pretty huge fridge. "To witches, a raven is-"

"-a symbol of magic and protection, I know I know." Dean muttered, waving him off, searching through the fridge. "Hey, wanna a breakfast burrito?" Dean asked, tossing a box over his shoulder at his brother, his head still in the fridge.

"What? No," Sam said, throwing the box back at Dean, who'd turned around.

"Your loss," he grumbled, ripping it open and opening the microwave. "Whoa." He said, shocked as he dropped wrapped burrito on the floor.

"Dean! C'mon, can't you just _try_ to _pretend_ to...Whoa." Sam repeated after going around the island to grab the burrito from the tiled floor. He'd stopped talking after seeing what stunned his brother.

Inside the microwave, the should-be white plastic insides were covered in black goo. It was actively spilling from where the top of the microwave met the sides. It was pushing what had already dripped down the sides out the front, spilling over the sides.

Both brothers took a step back when the first glob of ectoplasm fell to the floor with a light _splat_.

"Ok..." Dean said, slowly shutting the microwave door with one finger. "No breakfast burrito."

"That's a lot of ectoplasm...and there's no EMF." Sam said, tossing the small device he'd pulled from his pocket onto the island.

"Nothing?" Dean asked, grabbing the reader to look from himself. The needle was comfortably hovering over zero. "Nothing." He amended.

Grumbling, Dean opened up a door next to the fridge, after he flipped on the light, he stopped, one foot in the pantry, one foot out. "Sam! C'mere," Dean called over his shoulder. Sam made a small, irritated grunt. He came up behind his brother, a puzzled look on his face.

"What is that? Salt?" Sam asked, smelling the air.

"Yeah...A lot of salt." Dean corrected. He wasn't wrong either. Just standing in the empty pantry was making his nose and eyes burn like he'd opened his eyes and breathed while under the Atlantic. Without warning, Dean went to the back wall and seemed to test the strength of the wall breifly with his hand before punching it.

"_Dean-_!" Sam yelled, his voice a mix of shock and scolding, but it was cut short when he saw the grainy white substance that was pouring out of the hole in the plaster. Dean licked some of the substance that was on the back of his hand, ignoring the look Sam gave him.

"Salt. Who the hell _fills their walls_ with _salt_?" He asked, shaking the grainy white from his hand and shaking his booted feet to get it off there as well.

Sam shook his head wordlessly, confused. He walked back to the island, and started to shrug off his jacket. He walked back into the kitchen and dropped his jacket over a chair and leaned on the counter.

"Salt in the walls, no EMF and ectoplasm." Sam listed off as Dean shut the pantry door behind him. "The salt in the walls would normally keep a spirit out," Sam thought out loud.

"Well if a spirit is making ectoplasm in a microwave in a kitchen with salt walls, this is one powerful mother." Dean said, sticking his head back in the fridge. "Hey, what's feta?" He asked offhandedly, picking up the square blue container.

"It's a type of cheese," Sam told him, making Dean toss the contained back on the glass shelf. "I've never heard of that, I mean, is that even possible? Salt is a spirit's kryptonite."

Dean only shrugged, and abruptly shut the fridge and grinned over Sam's shoulder. Sam followed his gaze to see Nikki wandering back into the kitchen.

"So...Whatcha' boys talkin' 'bout?" she asked, tying her hair up into a sloppy bun as she got another cup of coffee.

"Oh, you know, ectoplasm without EMF." Dean said casually, making Nikki furrow her eyebrows together in confusion as she stared at Dean. Then she started to giggle.

"I don't know what you've been drinking, but it's a little early, isn't it?" she asked, walking past Dean to sit in one of the stools at the island. Dean made a slight face at her before sticking his head back into the fridge.

Nikki rolled her eyes and turned to Sam. "So, not that I'm not happy to see you guys, or to be rude or anything, but why are you here?"

"To return your binder," Sam said automatically, not looking away from the cheap painting that he suddenly found very interesting on the wall opposite them.

Nikki was about to say something, but the lights started flickering, before there was a small click and they went out completely. The windows where open, so it was still light out, but it was a little darker.

"Hey! Did something happen?" Dean asked, still going through the fridge. "The light turned off in here."

"Probably the main breaker, the contractor told me it had been acting finicky the last few weeks." Nikki sighed, setting her coffee mug down.


	15. Chapter 15

**Yet another chapter up!**

**If I keep things as they are now, there's only five more chapters! **

**Keep in mind, this is Part 1, and Part 2's gonna be up soon, but I have a question for you readers; should I just keep going in this story, or publish Part 2 seperatly?**

**Well, enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"We'll go check it, it's in the basement right?" Sam said, getting up and tearing Dean away from the fridge. He had a microwave fruit pie in one hand (I'm beginning to think Dean had a _slight _pie addiction). Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the fruit pie from Dean's hand, tossing it on the counter.

"Thanks," I said, happy I didn't have to go into the damp basement. "The door around the corner, first on the left." I told them. Sam nodded, a forced smile on his face as he dragged Dean to the basement.

I smiled back, even though Sam's was less than genuine. After I heard the basement door close, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and pulled my shirt up to see the mark on my ribs. It was still angry and red, like someone had run sandpaper over an old scar. I wrinkled my nose as I got up. I dug around in the cabinet, looking for my first aid kit. Once I found it, I dropped it on the counter under the window, and dug around in the plastic box for the Ace bandage. I looked up, and froze, my breath caught in my throat.

At first, I thought I'd seen my reflection in the glass, but 'I' wasn't wearing a ripped corset-top with puffy sleeves. I just stared...

_It_ looked exactly like me. Same face, _identical _face. But _its_ face looked forlorn, heartbroken and sad. Mine was gaping like a fish. _Its_ hair was long, you couldn't see the ends; they were past the window frame. Opposed to my own dark ebony hair, _its_ hair was a golden blonde. The shade that girls spent hundreds of dollars trying to get at a salon. But, it was the same _type_ of hair, you know? Thick, with louse curls that did what they wanted. _Its_ curls were ratted and streaked with dirt. Part of me was jealous. I was in sweats and old t-shirt, my hair was tossed up in a messy bun. Over all; I looked like shit. But...The, the _thing_ that looked just like me was in way worse shape and she looked like she could walk down a runway. I'll bet it was her perfect posture, you could balance a book on her head.

_Nolite, quaeso, sequere me…_

I felt like...like someone was in my head, going through my thoughts, tangling them up so I couldn't keep my train of thought, making my mind grow hazy.

"What?" I whimpered, just a breath. _It_ leaned towards the window, nose almost touching the glass. Her dark eyebrows where

She licked her pale lips, and then she spoke. "Please, follow me."

Her voice felt like someone was drilling into my head. I winced and put a hand on my temple. I closed my eyes and turned away from the window.

"She-She's not real Nik, not real." I whispered to myself, praying for the Winchester boys to come back up from the basement.

I jumped when I heard a screeching sound. I whirled around and looked wide eyed at the woman behind the glass. One of her hands was to the glass, fingers bent so her nails were on the glass, four white scratches trailing after her fingers in the glass.

_Nolite quaeso, venime._

"Please, come with me." I breathed, the foreign words suddenly making sense.

She took a step back, showing the ratted ends of her hair past her waist and a used-to-be-white skirt, just as billowy and poofy as her sleeves. Now that I could see her head to toe, I realized that she wasn't wearing a corset style dress like I thought. She was dressed in a petticoat and corset...Half dressed...

She raised one hand, outstretched towards me with her palm up. She closed her fingers, then opened them, she did this several times, motioning for me to come with her.

_Venite ad me. Sed._

This was an order.

I was shaking as I walked to the door, pausing to tug my Converse on, then undid the iron locks and the new deadbolt and stepped outside, leaving the door open behind me. I didn't have a choice. I had too.

The woman who, who was practically my blonde twin, lifted her head, her brilliant green eyes looking at me intently, her brows turning up in the center, almost in pity. She flickered, then disappeared, only to appear towards the left of the house by the edge of the woods.

Numbly, I followed her. I...I felt like I was back in my dream, where I was me; I had my own thoughts and everything, but someone was controlling what I was doing, like a puppet on strings.

Once I got about six feet from her, I stopped. I just stood in front of her, wide eyed.

She turned, walking into the woods. When I didn't move, she looked over her shoulder and motioned for me to follow her again.

Omniscient POV

"I don't see anything wrong with this thing," Dean amended, frustrated at the breaker box. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam looking at the large stack of paintings leaning on the wall. "And you've been really helpful."

"Shut up. I found something," Sam snapped at his older brother, flicking his flashlight at him.

"What?" Dean asked, trudging over the mess of a basement towards Sam.

"Look," was all Sam said, aiming his flashlight at one of the paintings.

"So? Nikki stood still for God knows how long and was painted." Dean said, hoping there was more of a point to his brother's find. "She doesn't make a bad blonde either." He added.

"Look at the date." Sam said, ignoring his brother's comment as he moved his flashlight beam to the corner. "1863, a year before Jane died."

"Are they related or something?" Dean asked, pulling the picture out of the stack and put it in the front. The boys stepped back to look at the painting.

"I don't know...Hey, look at her eyes," Sam pointed out. "The rest of them have her with green eyes."

"Maybe it wasn't finished, I mean, she did die," Dean said, narrowing his gaze as he assessed the black-eyed painting.

"Ok, so Jane Howard was a witch," Sam stated. "Killed her dad, isolated herself from society, drove a woman crazy and God knows what else, all a year before she died; now this." Sam said, pointing his flashlight at the black eyes again.

"What are you thinking?" Dean said slowly, not sure what the wrap up had to do with anything.

"What if she was possessed?" Sam asked, the idea forming in his head. "It'd explain the personality change." He reasoned.

"People die with demons in them all the time. It doesn't affect the demon, they just smoke out and find a new meat suit." Dean told him. "C'mon man, you know this."

"Yeah, but Jane wasn't a normal person, she was into some pretty advanced magic. With the herbs in the ledger, I bet she could have cooked something up to trap a demon in her." Sam tried to explain his idea.

"So, Jane's awake when the demon is haunting the crazy lady, knows she's gonna be labeled a witch-" Sam finished Dean's though, cutting him off.

"Cooks something up to trap the demon in her, dies, the demon dies with her." Sam stated, happy he found out why Jane was bi-polar in her last year. He wished he could tell Nikki.

"Ok, why is Demon Jane's spirit haunting Nikki?" Dean asked. "Shouldn't they both go where all good little witches go?"

"If the demon still has some control, maybe it didn't let Jane's spirit pass on, trapped'em both." Sam thought out loud. "But that doesn't explain why it's screwing with Nikki's life."

"What if they _are _related?" Dean asked, pulling out a rolled up canvas. He walked to a work table, and pushed the tools and the contents of the table off, onto the floor, and unrolled it. Sam came and stood next to him. "Wasn't Nikki's aunt's name Gertrude?" He asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, following the branch of the tree that said 'Gertrude' up the tree, to a 'Wendelin,' then to a 'Lillian,' who was the sister of Jane's mother.

"So Nikki's a blood relative, Demon Jane works her hoodoo, jumps into Nikki's meat." Dean said, only then realizing the weight of what he'd said after he said it.

He and Sam sprinted up the stairs, guns, filled with salt rounds, out and ready.

"Damnit!" Dean cursed after seeing the empty kitchen.

Sam wasn't listening. He was looking at the four scratches on the glass, oozing ectoplasm, then his gaze wandered to the open door.

"It's got her." Sam said, jaw clenched.


	16. Chapter 16

**Another chapter posted! It's a little shorter, but now that it's the weekend, the next few **_**should**_** be a little longer. **

**I wanna give a huge thank you and a virtual hug to **ixistargirl89ixi**, **Kali-WolfChilde** and **uniqueme6299** for the reviews!**

**Well, enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

My feet were tired, _I_ was tired. Exhausted. 

I wasn't really watching where I was going, I was just following my new twin.

When she stopped, I finally looked away from her and took in my surroundings. My heart broke out into a sprint when I realized we were at the boathouse, twenty or thirty feet from the rushing river. 

"Calm down," the woman said. 

"Why can I hear you, at my house it hurt to hear you." I said quietly, crossing my arms over my chest, my hand pressed to my ribs which were burning painfully. 

"I was far from here," she said, gesturing around here. "I was far from where I died. I was not strong, I had to use your own energy to communicate with you." She said, her voice was soft, breathy and completely calm.

"Wh-Why-" 

"Shh," the blonde-me said, flickering, then appearing in front of me. "Quiet Nicolette. I do not have much time, and I have much to tell you. How much you will understand is unknown to me. Tell me, what have the Winchester men told you?"

"The Winchester-Sam and Dean? About _them_? Not much." I answered, pressing my hand tighter to my ribs as the pain spiked with her closer.

She sighed, walking away from me slightly. "Just as I thought, this will be much more difficult for you to understand. I wished to make this as easy and painless as possible for you. I fear my trying will only make this that much more painful and difficult for you."

"What are you talking about?" I burst, a hot, burning feeling crawled up my throat, like a sob was going to rip from my throat at any moment. 

"In your research of me, you saw the stories of witchcraft surrounding my family and me." She said, gently folding her hands in front of her, facing the river as she looked at the moon. 

"Me...I-You-You're Jane?" I gasped, my heart beating faster in..._fear_, I guess.

A small smile crossed her face. "It has been many years since I was called by my given name...It sounds so odd," her brow furrowed. "It is like hearing an old friend call you a special name, only used between the two of you after being apart for many years. I am not even sure I would answer to it now…Jane." 

I stayed silent, my knees wobbling.

"The stories you've read are true, I am a witch...was, a witch, on my time on Earth." She paused, looking down at the gravel. "But not the kind in you are familiar with...what with the pointed hats, cloaks and green skin. My mother taught me from a young age, strictly white magic, we helped people, as white witches do. Though, _we _are not bound by the rules other white witches like us are."

"Us?" I asked, the use of 'we' and 'us' did not go unnoticed by me.

"Please, allow me to finish." Jane said, her face falling. "The Winchester men you know are known as hunters, they fight and kill creatures you only have in your nightmares. It is a lonely, selfless lifestyle that not many can endure. 

"My mother, rest her soul, was a witch, my father, rest his soul, was a hunter. He was sent out by his family to _kill_ my mother. As he was about to fire his shot, he saw my mother kill three vampires single handedly, saving at least seven people just in that time, more if you agree with his assumption of their path to the next town. 

"They became partners, my mother taught my father exorcism spells, tricks for revealing dark witches," Jane trailed off. "They married, and created this town after I was born. I didn't exactly have a…_normal_, upbringing." Jane chuckled, shaking her head. "Goodness, the basement of my own home was a mess of Devil's traps and salt rounds.

"My mother told me that we were descendants of a very, _very_ powerful witch. The first white witch...Her power is reincarnated in us-her descendants- to ensure this paradise was safe, no one had ever been able to tell when these powers would return. But, when I heard the story," Jane paused, looking down at her hands again. "I knew it was me. It was like part of my heart and soul weren't mine, they were wiser than me, knew things about magic even my mother didn't know. I advanced past her by the time I was 13." Jane said softly.

"W-What does this have to do with me?" I whimpered, my knees finally giving out, making me fall onto the damp ground. 

Jane saw me fall and came to sit next to me, her dress floating around her like she was sitting on a cloud.

"My dear…You do not know…" She sighed sadly. "It was before you were even born, Nicolette…And you were dying… My own flesh and blood, I could let you die. The demons me and my family sent back to hell would have taken you on your way to heaven and dragged you into that-that _pit_...I couldn't let that happen to one of my own, not to a _child_." She looked down again.

"I-I saved you...It only takes seconds for one's soul to leave the body, the demons already had half of your soul, I was trying to fight them off, keep your soul in its proper place. Once they restarted your heart, I was still fighting the demons off, holding tightly onto your soul. Half of it returned to its proper place, the other half...The other half was me, my soul merged with yours, destroying half of your own and half of mine-"

"Hey!" I heard someone yell. I spun around and saw Sam standing at the edge of the woods with a sawed off shotgun raised up.

"No!" Jane said quickly. "No, no you don't understand! I'm trying to help her-" Jane was cut off by a loud popping sound. Sam had pulled the trigger, and Jane had dissipated. I gasped, grasping my stomach. I felt like _I_ had been shot.

"Nikki!" Sam cried, seeing me double over in pain. I felt a hand on my back, the other was trying to pull my head up to look at him. I pried my eyes open and looked up at Sam. I locked my eyes on his, just trying to calm myself down. I think Sam was speaking, but I didn't hear him. My mind was getting foggier by the second, so I focused on Sam's eyes. It was something calming to look at; as concerned and scared as they looked, the moonlight was hitting them, so the blue looked silver and the hazel-y green ring just around the irises looked like it was practically glowing.

My eyes started to drop, I felt Sam put a hand on my cheek, turning my face I assume towards him, and I heard more yelling. It was muffles, like he was yelling to me while I was underwater. 

My stomach was hurting like I'd been shot. My ribs where burning like someone was holding a curling iron to the mark on my side and there was this loud noise in my head. It was a voice, I think. It was speaking other languages, and was hard to hear, like it was far away.

I was so overwhelmed. I pinched my eyes shut and let myself pass out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Yet another chapter! So sorry, this is short... **

**I wanna say thank you to everyone who reviewed this story! Knowing that people like what I'm writing gives me a ton of inspiration! :)**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Omniscient POV

"Nikki!" Sam yelled when she went limp, her head going slack in his hand. "Oh God, _Nikki_!" He yelled again, shaking her shoulders futilely.

Dean stayed silent as he watched Sam gently lay Nikki down in the damp, gravely sand. Sam took Nikki's pulse, and even pressed an ear to her chest to make sure she was breathing.

"Please, allow me to explain," a voice said, causing Dean to spin on a heel and fire his own shotgun, but the spirit had flickered away, appearing behind Dean.

"_Inscius atque mortales_." She said quickly, making Dean fall forward into the sand.

"Dean!" Sam cried, seeing his brother fall face first.

"He is alright, I assure you. Merely unconscious." The spirit said, sounding deep in thought, like she wasn't paying attention to Sam. She slowly moved towards Dean's face, laying cheek first on the gravel. Her eyebrows pulled together as she looked down at him, her head tilting to one side.

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded, not liking how the spirit was staring at his brother. She either didn't hear him, or ignored him. Jane took a slow breath in, her bottom lip quivering as she turned away from Dean, briskly walking over to Sam and Nikki.

Sam eyed his own shotgun, about five feet from him, where he dropped it when he ran to Nikki. It was just out of reach, if he reached for it, Nikki would be left wide open. He didn't have a choice. He glared at Jane's spirit, clenched his jaw, and didn't move.

Jane looked between the man crouched over descendant.

"You feel something for her," she stated, tuning into the protective nature of his aura.

Sam's hard face faltered for a second in confusion. "What?" He spat.

"My descendant, Nicolette, you feel something for her," Jane explained, taking a hesitant step forward. "I can tell, do not lie to me...It is wrong to lie to the dead." Jane said wryly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Sam didn't even blink.

"Alright..." Jane mumbled, looking at her folded hands.

"What's wrong with her?" Sam finally spoke, his hand tightening on Nikki's shoulder.

"I am afraid to say," Jane said. "More guilty than afraid...Guilty, because I've lied to her," she said, her lip quivering again. "Well, not quite lied, but there are so many things she _doesn't know_…"

"What's. Wrong. With her." Sam demanded, his hand itching to grab his gun.

"I saved her, when she was a child." Jane explained vaguely. "I have been tethered to her since, as half of my soul is with hers. It will drain her, tear her apart unless I bind them together

Jane sighed, and confidently stepped forward to Sam, kneeling next to him. "Samuel Winchester," she sighed, the forlorn look gone from her face, replaced with one of relief. "I knew I recognized you."

"Wh-" Sam started but Jane resumed speaking.

"_My_...I knew you had entered Nicolette's life, but I had no idea your aura would be so strong this _soon_," she said, kneeling beside him. "Do not be scared for her, Sam. You will have plenty of time for such things in the future." Sam was gripping the sand in tight fists so he wouldn't lunge at this ghost; he needed information from her, he needed to know what was wrong with Nikki. The small gravel rocks in the sand where cutting his palms. He heard her whimper and Nikki's hand twitched. Sam took her hand, even though his was a little bloody.

"What are you-"

"None of your concern," Jane cut him off. "Samuel…Sam, we will not meet like this again, but I assure you, we will meet again, though it will be unconventional. I have a request of you, three actually. Please burn the painting you found of me, it is a horrid reminder of what happened to me. And please explore the basement before you leave." Jane said, giving Sam a mischievous smile as she stood up to go no Nikki's other side.

"How'd you control the demon?" Sam blurted.

Jane looked up at him, the forlorn look back on her face, but it flickered mischievously. "I am a great witch Sam, as Nicolette will be. We white witches are capable of many things. Especially those of our bloodline."

Sam stayed silent, staring at Jane. "You said you wanted me to do three things, you only said two."

"The third..." Jane trailed off. "Don't make her wait too long, Sam." The small smile Jane gave was enough to make Sam both blush, and become confused.

"Wait for-"

"_Inscius atque mortales_." Jane said, making Sam's eyes roll back and his large body go slack in the stones.

Jane sighed and looked at Nikki. "Well, let's get binding, shall we?" She asked no one in particular.


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm so sorry I didn't post yesterday! Sherlock was on last night (I'm still all excited about that) and I had myself a marathon of 1 and 2! So…Yeah…**

**Well, enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

My head hurt.

My head _really_ hurt.

I groaned and opened my eyes. 

I was at home, in my bed.

"Ok, new #1 Crazy Dream," I said, rubbing my eyes, then letting my arm flail back down. It didn't hit my fluffy comforter; it hit something pretty hard. And that something hard groaned.

I shot up, wincing from my throbbing head, and stared at the body in my bed, under my covers next to me. 

Sam. _Holy shit._

_Sam _was in my **bed**.

I dressed in a t-shirt and panties and Sam was shirtless, the covers pulled up to the middle of his back. He was on his stomach, his muscular arms around the plush pillow, his lengthy hair was mussed over his pillow and his face was squished into the pillow in a way that _he _must have found comfortable. I knew _I_ could never sleep like that. 

This little assessment of mine only took me about three seconds, after that I...Well, I freaked out. I ended up flailing my limbs to try and get out of my covers, and in doing that, I smacked the back of my hand on my bedpost. I let out a little yelp in pain and jumped away from the bedpost.

The next thing I knew, I was being pinned down to my bed by two strong hands, grasping my forearms and holding them over my head. I let out another yelp, then looked up at Sam, surprisingly. 

His eyes were heavily lidded with sleep, but after he blinked a few times and shook his head, making his hair messier, he looked down at me. His eyes widened in shock, and he opened his mouth, then closed it when no sound came out. I was just staring at him wide eyed.

I had to admit, a shirtless Sam pinning me to my bed was kind of a turn on. But that thought was pointless against the shock that a man, that I found very attractive, pinned me to my bed and I had no idea how he got in my bed in the first place.

"Uh..." Sam said, frozen, eyes still wide. 

"Think you could...You know...Let me up?" I said slowly, knowing that if I just leaned up and kissed him that'd just make things awkward.

"Y-Yeah," Sam stuttered, embarrassed. It took him a second, like he was trying to remember how to move his hands. In that second hesitation, my bedroom door was thrown open. I whipped my head over to look, Sam looked over his shoulder on instinct. 

"Hey, Nik, you seen..." Dean trailed off, seeing the situation me and Sam were currently in. I used all my strength to push my arms up and out of Sam's grasp, then put both hands on his chest and pushed, making him bounce back onto his side of the bed-_What the hell am I thinking?! _He doesn't have a side!

I stayed in my spot, pulling the covers up to my chin as I sat in my bed. Dean probably got a pretty good look at me when Sam had me pinned down, and I didn't really want him to see me walking around in my panties. Then again, the rational part of me didn't want Sam to see me in just panties and a t-shirt, but I just told that part of my mind to shut up. I had bigger issues.

"I was just gonna ask if you'd seen Sam," Dean said, fighting to keep a smile off his face. "Which, obviously you have." He added.

"Shut up Dean," Sam mumbled, quickly getting off my bed, looking from his spot for the rest of his clothes, which he found on the bench at the foot of my bed. I, as much as I hated to admit it, had my eyes glued to him the whole time. As it turns out, he had jeans on the whole time...worn, faded, low slung, V-showing jeans. He quickly pulled his pants up over the little bit of dark green and blue plaid boxers that where showing and grabbed his belt, missing a belt loop, which Dean pointed out for him, in his haste to get dressed.

I jumped as something was tossed at me; a pair of sweatpants. I gave Sam a questioning look as he covered that amazingly sculpted chest of his with a shirt. He shrugged and glanced at the bench, as if to say 'It was on there.' I shrugged and jumped out of bed, pulling the sweatpants on. Dean was still grinning, leaning on the door frame. 

"I...Uh...I'm gonna go put on real clothes," I said, my cheeks bright red as I dashed to my closet. After I shut the door, I leaned on it, trying to get my cheeks to stop feeling like they were on fire.

I quickly put on a pair of jeans and paused to look in the mirror after I put on my bra. The mark on my side was gone. Completely gone. I frowned, running my hand over my ribs, completely pain free. I let the thought go as I pulled a long sleeved shirt on, and tied my dark hair up in a bun. I looked at my phone, surprised to see the date. A whole day had passed. 

I quickly ran downstairs, skidding to a stop just outside the kitchen. I walked in at a normal pace, seeing Dean holding a bag of frozen peas on his forehead, still grinning, and Sam was eating a bowl of cereal, glaring at Dean with a reddish tint to his cheeks.

"Uh..." I said, announcing himself. "Would either of you like to enlighten me on what happened yesterday?"

"So...I'm related to a witch," I said slowly. It was easier to believe that they hunted monsters than it was to believe I was related to, and _am_, a witch. 

"Yup." Dean said from under his peas.

"And, I'm one, a _witch_, too. A _witch_, pointy hat, broom, cauldron, double bubble toil and trouble, black cat owning; _witch_." I said, looking at them doubtfully.

"Yeah, a pretty powerful one." Sam put in. I just stared at him, too shocked to do anything else. He blushed lightly and dropped his gaze to the counter. We were all silent for a few minutes. 

"So...If you guys hunt stuff..." I started, Sam kept his gaze steady on the counter, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Dean didn't move, hell, he didn't _blink_.

"Does that mean I should be, like, hiding in my room with my dresser in front of my door?" I laughed nervously. Sam continued to clench and unclench his jaw as he stared intently at the table, Dean let out a laugh, leaning back on his stool at the island, balancing on the back to legs as he grinned up at the ceiling. 

"C'mon guys," I said, still laughing nervously as they remained still.

"If you're going to kill me at least tell me!" I said, now genuinely scared.

"We're not going to kill you Nikki!" Sam burst out, his eyes bored into mine, they were full of honesty and what looked a lot like guilt.

"Yet." Dean muttered darkly, the smirk on his face told me he was just teasing, but Sam glared at him anyway. "What? Too soon?"

"Yeah, just a bit." I said, feeling like someone had punched me in the chest.

"Oh...Sorry," Dean muttered, not really meaning it, but, I took it. After a few deep breaths, I was alright, well, not alright, but better. 

"Hey, how do you feel?" Sam asked me suddenly.

I shrugged. "My head hurts a little...Kinda hungry..." I mumbled. Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. 

"I mean, do you feel...different at all? Less or more energy, that sort of thing?" Sam elaborated.

I thought about it, then shook my head no. "No. No, not really, not that I've noticed." 

"Not feeling demon-y, any urges to turn people into frogs?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"No more than usual." I said calmly, making Sam laugh.


	19. Chapter 19

**Two chapters in one day! I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself. :) **

**I should actually be studying for exams right now, but this is so much more **_**fun**_**, you know? **

**Well, here's the next chapter! Enjoy it!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"What are you guys even looking for?" I asked, following Sam and Dean into the basement. They had insisted on going down again before they left. I definitely wasn't opposed to them staying a little longer, but the basement was kind of an odd place to hang out.

"Anything witchy." Dean called from the back corner, where he was quickly sifting through some of the old papers on the workbench. Sam nodded in agreement, lifting the lid on a trunk. I sighed, and wandered around the basement. According to Sam, my little witch friend had knocked out the electricity, and gratefully let it come back. 

"So...Is there anything I should know, being the reincarnation of a witch?" I asked, opening a trunk of my own. 

"You know just about as much as we do. We've never met up with a witch who was...a-a witch..._genetically_." Sam said, frowning a bit at his poor word choice.

"And not crazy as hell," Dean added, pushing a bookcase to one side.

"Oh..." I mumbled, leaning against the wall across from him, mildly insulted.

"Sam!" Dean called suddenly. "Help me move this!" I stayed put as the boys moved the heavy wooden work bench a few feet from the wall. I couldn't help but grin as I saw the wooden door that had been hidden under it. I grabbed a flashlight from one of the shelves and waited until Dean opened the door to slip between them, flashlight in hand. 

"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean said, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me, my feet already on the first rung. "What are you doing?" 

"Going into the secret passage in my basement." I said.

"We have no idea what's down there," Sam said, his eyes were relatively blank, but a small amount of concern was in them. "Let us clear it." 

I just rolled my eyes. "I'm the one with the flashlight and, last time I checked, this was my house, so…I'm gonna go." I jerked out of Dean's grip and continued down the ladder.

Once I had both my feet on the floor, about ten feet below the basement, I looked around the room, or, what I could see of it. I moved the beam of my flashlight around, but frowned, I couldn't see five feet in front of me, even with a flashlight.

"Nikki?" Sam called down. "What do you see?" 

"Nothing to exciting, c'mon down," I yelled back up, still moving my beam around to try and see the rest of the room. 

Seconds later, both brothers were standing with me in the square of light in the dark room.

"It's weird..." I trailed off, moving my beam around a bit towards the darkness. Sam caught my eye and gave me a questioning look. "Well, the light from my flashlight should hit the back wall, right? It doesn't." Dean picked up a rock, weighed it in his hand, wound his arm back and threw it into the darkness. There was a good three seconds before it hit anything.

"Hinky..." I mumbled, frowning. I let Sam take the flashlight, and I put my hand on the wall right next to the ladder. I kept my hand on the wall as I walked out of the light, and into darkness so black and deep I couldn't see my hand an inch from my face. 

"Nikki?" I heard Sam yell, sounding a bit surprised. "Nikki!" He yelled, this time sounding concerned. 

"Over here! I'm fine," I called back, but kept walking through the darkness.

"Where the hell are you?" I heard Dean yell.

"I'm fine! Relax!" I snapped at both Sam and Dean.

I paused when my hand on the wall hit something cold, raised up from the rest of the stone wall. I kept that hand on the wall and used my other hand to follow what felt like a pipe up to what would have been eye level. It came up, like half a bowl flat against the wall, the cup of it protruding out. I reached over the lip of the bowl, and the tips of my fingers where met with a cold liquid. The second my fingers brushed the surface of the liquid, the room exploded with light. 

I heard Sam and Dean say something, but I wasn't listening, I was following the copper pipe, the one that I followed to the half bowl, up to the ceiling, where it met a copper tray-like thing that sat five inches or so from the ceiling and held bright orange and red flames.

"Huh." I said simply. I looked at the few drops on the tips of my fingers. It didn't feel like oil, I hesitantly sniffed it. It wasn't gas...Looked like _water_... 

I turned around and took in the room. Dean was looking at the wall of weapons across from me, he looked like he was trying hard to be serious, but was excited to see so many old, unique weapons. Sam was focusing on the wall of bookcases on the far back wall, across from the ladder. There was a thick, plush looking blue rug on the floor, a low, round table in its center, three chairs on one side of it and a sofa, its back to the ladder, on the other. I couldn't help but smile as I went to the desk a few feet from me. This was just too _cool_. 

"This...This looks like some heavy stuff," Sam said, looking up from one of the books. "Not..._bad_, necessarily." He added quickly when he saw Dean's 'Should we burn this place down?' sort of look. "It's just..._complicated_."

I looked over his shoulder, and frowned. "What do you mean complicated?" I asked. 

"It's...I-I can't understand any of this," he admitted. Dean stalked over and took the book from his brother, he scowled and shoved it back.

"Is that even English?" He asked, going back to pick up one of the rifles he'd been looking at. Sam shrugged. I kept looking at the shotgun. It had to be pre-Civil War, there was only room for a single bullet, but post-Revolutionary War; with the lack of bayonet.

I picked up a thinner, dustier book on one of the bottom shelves. There was a Roman Numeral 1 on the leather spine. I opened it up to the first page.

_Written by Lady Ursula Abernathy (n__é__e Howard)_

_1790_

_Grimoire I._

"Grimoire..." I mumbled, flipping to the next page.

_Levitation_

_Contrary to what garden variety witches claim, levitation is one of the basic skills a witch must master in order to advance to more complicated incantations and spells. _

_It is a skill that links heavily to concentration and will. As well as saying the incantation, a witch must truly will the object of concentration. It is in the best interest of those around a witch practicing this skill if they are warned beforehand, and are not the object of concentration. _

_Levitating alive beings is best saved for when a witch has had more experience. _

_Levo a et_

"Levo a et," I mumbled, trying out the words as I flipped to a new page. 

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelped, soon followed by a thud. I whipped my head up and saw Dean somewhat collapsed on the floor, half sitting on one of the chairs. His face was completely surprised, almost scared. Sam was just frozen, wide eyed like his brother as they stared at the rifle hovering five feet from the floor. 

"It-It just flew out of my hands!" Dean said, scrambling to his feet. I didn't say anything, I just looked in the grimoire again.

When I looked back up a minute later, the rifle was still hovering in the air and Dean and Sam where staring at it in shock. 

"Hey," I called, making them look at me. "I'd move." I said simply. They looked at me oddly, but each took a few strides back. I hesitantly extended my hand, palm facing out like the grimoire described. 

"Nikki..." Sam said slowly, sounding worried. "What are you doing?"

"Shh!" I hissed, glancing at the grimoire before focusing on the shotgun again. "Iustum." I said slowly, focusing on the word. 

The rifle flew through the air, slamming into Dean's chest to the right. He stumbled back a few feet, grabbing the shotgun that was crushed to his chest. He let out a groan of pain, then looked at me, then the rifle, before throwing it back on the table.

"_What the hell_?" Dean yelled, eyes wide in shock. "

"Did-Did you do that?" Sam asked, looking at me with those eyes…They were like two kaleidoscopes of the prettiest shades of blues with hints of a hazel-y brown. The fire light made them look molten. 

"Uh...Yeah," I said, not looking at them.

"You can read these?" Sam asked, gesturing to the grimoire in my hands.

"Yeah." I said again, stunned.

"It doesn't make any sense." He went on, still reading over my shoulder. I ducked my head closer to the grimoire, he was _so_ close. I could almost feel him leaning against my back. 

"How'd you know how to pronounce anything?" Sam pressed, looking at me inquisitively.

"Uh...I-I just knew." I mumbled, causing Dean and Sam to share a look, and Dean to shrug.

"…Freaky as hell…" Dean grumbled, taking the rifle again, holding it up as if to fire it.


	20. Chapter 20

**This chapter is like the end of the unofficial Part One. It's a bit short…Sorry about that. It would be longer, but I have exams, which you all probably know because I've been complaining about them in these authors notes for over a week. :| **

**Well, here's the little snipit end. Well, not really the end, because I'm going to post another chapter tomorrow. **

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"You guys have everything?" I asked, wringing my apron in my hands in front of CJ's as Dean and Sam threw their bags into Dean's, now working, '67 Impala. Before, I called it 'a black vintage car.' At first I thought he was going to shoot me, then he started a very long, very _loud_ speech about the car. 

"Yeah," Sam said, slamming the trunk shut. He'd been showing me the arsenal where the spare tire was supposed to be. They had just about every weapon I could think of in there. I let Dean keep the rifle he'd seen in the basement room, along with a few boxes of ammunition. Those bullets wouldn't just kill whatever was shot, I'm pretty sure they'd blow up whatever it went through.

"So...Where you two goin' now?" I asked, sitting on the porch rail.

Sam shrugged. "Think we got a job in Minnesota." 

"Oh...Cool," I said awkwardly. "Would you mind giving me a call, you know, when you get there?" He looked at me, almost like he was confused. 

I just shrugged. "Well, I-I _know_ I'm gonna worry about you two idiots." Sam chuckled once and rolled his eyes. 

"I read my great-great-great grandfather's journal! I _know_ what hunters do!" I snapped, crossing my arms at him.

"Fine, fine, I'll call, ok?" He laughed, leaning on the passenger door. I grinned triumphantly, tipping my head up a little. 

Dean was still inside CJ's, talking (flirting) with Wendy. We've been standing outside, waiting for him for a good ten minutes. 

"So..." I said, trying to think of something to say. Sam just nodded. He must have felt as awkward as I did. Thankfully, Dean came out of the dinner, a grin on his face as he stuffed a napkin in his pocket. 

"Ready Sammy?" He asked, slapping his brother on the shoulder. Sam rolled his eyes but nodded. I walked down the steps, really, _really_ wanting to hug them, but refraining. They didn't seem like the hug-y type.

"See 'ya Nik!" Dean said, giving me a smile, this time I think it was a real smile, not a sarcastic one. I couldn't help but grin at that.

I waved slightly, then looked at Sam. I smiled a little bigger as I waved. He gave me one of those smiles that made me think he wanted to full out grin, but didn't. He raised his hand to wave slightly and turned to look over his shoulder as Dean hit the gas. 

I sighed, watching the Impala drive away from Janesville. 

I tied my apron on as I walked back in, still thinking about how I should have hugged Sam. I really, _really_ wanted to. I bet he'd give really good hugs. The kind where he loops one arm under yours and puts the other around your waist, tightly pressing your body against his strong chest-

Without thinking, I stopped the very pleasant thought about Sam and raised my hand up to grab an orange that was hurtling towards me.

This change of focus took less than half a second. 

It was like I was in one of my dreams again, but I was in control of my actions, just...not..._completely_. 

I just stared at the orange in shock.

"_Whoa_..." Wendy said in awe. "How'd you do that?" She asked, leaning on the bar, wide eyed. Even Travis was looking at me with one cocked eyebrow. They both knew I had little or no hand-eye coordination.

"I...I have no idea." I mumbled, tossing the orange back in the fruit bowl as I passed it.

It was like I was _expecting_ the damn thing to be hurtling towards me


	21. Chapter 21

**The first chapter in the unofficial Part Two! Yay!**

**Well, enjoy it! **

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

It'd been two weeks since Sam and Dean left. 

I was steadily learning more and more about my family and my abilities from the shelves full of grimoires, a Wiccan term for spell books, in the basement room. I was on the seventh one now, I blew through them easily. According to Jane's journal, I found it in her desk, she did as well; it was part of the whole 'was reincarnated with the powers of an ancient white witch' deal. I was actually learning faster than her.

Sam told me that because my soul had only been _half_ bound to Jane's, that may have been the cause for my strangely vivid dreams and insomnia. The reason I used to work almost twenty hours a day was because I could only sleep if I was physically exhausted. Now, I started my job at CJ's at noon and went home a 2 am. It may because I was getting more sleep, but I had so much more energy. 

I was wiping down a table when my phone rang. I threw my rag at Travis before I answered it, it was his turn to clean the tables before lunch anyway.

"Hello?" I answered.

"_Hey, Nikki, it's Dean_." 

"Oh, hi," I said, surprised. It was usually Sam who called me. It was _always_ Sam who called me.

Sam told me that Dean was a little hesitant to the idea that they were friendly with a witch, but he was coming around. I hoped he was going to come around a little faster after I told them that rattlesnake root worked better than wolfsbane to mask a human smell when hunting werewolves.

"_I-Uh-I sent you a picture, think you can take a look through your hoodoo and tell me what I come up with?_" 

I took my phone away from my ear, seeing that I got a text message with a picture attached. "Dean Winchester, are _you asking for_ _my_ _help_?" I asked, adding an astonished gasp at the end.

"_Oh shut up,_" he scoffed. "_Just take a look, alright?...We have no idea what we're up against._" 

"Yeah, yeah I'll take a look," I told him, trying to hide any worry in my voice. I worried about them, a lot. 

"_Call me when you find somethin'._"

"Yeah, and hey, De-?" I started to ask, but he hung up. 

I pouted as I closed my phone, putting it back in my pocket.

"Who was it?" Wendy asked from the counter.

"No one," I lied, grabbing the rag back from Travis.

I hadn't told Wendy or Travis that I was still in contact with Sam and Dean. One, because Wendy would scratch my eyes out for Dean's number, and two, they knew _nothing_ about what I did in my free time. 

A few hours later I was home, in the basement room with a beer, going through dusty books. The symbol Dean sent me wasn't in the huge indexes if Wiccan and supernatural symbols I had, so I had to look in almost every book that wasn't a grimoire.

I put a few books aside, specifically ones pertaining to herbs, potions and brewing. That was what was in the next grimoire and I wanted a head start. I'd read about an herb garden in Jane's journal. She listed all of what she planted, some of it wasn't even in the herb books I had. 

When I finally found the symbol, I called Dean.

"_Yeah?_" He answered.

"Hey, Dean, it's Nikki. I found that symbol." 

"'_kay, what is it and how do you kill it?_" 

"It's a Zoroastrian symbol, a sigil for a summoning a Deava." I started, pausing to let him ask any questions he had.

"_Never heard'a them._"

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have. They're old, _really_ old. The first time they were ever _recorded _was over two thousand years before Christ. The name literally translates to 'demon of darkness.' From what the book says, the things are savage, animalistic. Kind'a like the pitbulls of hell."

"_Anything on how to kill them?_" 

"Well, it says that they have to be summoned. The easiest way to do that is by making an altar, so, destroy the altar, the person controlling them wouldn't have any power over them anymore. The bad thing is that if you destroyed the altar, you take the leash of these things, they'd be set free."

"_Nik, that doesn't really tell me how to gank them._"

"Well it doesn't say how too!" I defended myself. "I mean, no one's even seen one of these things in over a thousand years! It doesn't even say what they look like!" 

"_Damn..._" I heard Dean groan, I could picture him drinking a beer. "_That's it?_" 

"Yeah...Sorry...I'll keep looking though," I assured him, I heard a grunt from the other line.

"Hey Dean?" I asked, hesitating. "Uh...W-Why didn't Sam call?" 

"_What? I'm not allowed to call?_"

"No, it's just that you've _never_ called me in the two weeks you guys have been gone." I said, taking a long drink of my beer as I leaned back on the bookcase behind me. There was silence for a few beats before Dean spoke. 

"_I called 'cause I got a dead end in my dad's journal for the symbol, thought you and your hoodoo could save me a little work._" 

"That didn't answer my question-and doesn't Sam usually do the research?" I asked, more confused. 

"_Yeah, well, he's out playing stalker._" 

"Playing stalker?" I repeated, confused.

"_Met some girl he knew in a bar, thinks there's something up so he's following her. If you ask me, he's not thinkin' with his upstairs brain if you know what I mean._" Dean said suggestively.

"Yeah, yeah Dean I know what you mean," I sighed, finishing my beer in one long swig. "Well, uh, call me if you need me to look anything else up-oh, and let me know how this goes, ok?" 

"_Yeah yeah yeah, bye Nikki._" Dean chuckled as he hung up.

"Bye Dean." I said into my phone, even though he'd already hung up. 

I sat in my basement room for a little longer, staying still as I stared at the Deava page of the book. I wasn't really thinking about the Deava, I was thinking about how Sam 'plaing stalker' shouldn't bother me as much as it did.

And, I guess I was thinking about the Deava a little. These things were seriously nasty. I felt myself growing more and more worried for Sam and Dean every passing second. Eventually I put the books back, keeping a few out, bringing them back upstairs with me. I opened my fridge, thinking about getting another beer, but decided against it.

I had weird dreams when I drank before I slept. And they were already pretty weird.


	22. Chapter 22

**Well…I really don't have anything to say…**

**This is a bit short...I'll probably post another chapter later today. **

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

I groaned as I woke up for the third time during the night. It's been three nights since I slept all through the night. It was starting to bother me.

I stared at my ceiling in the dark, looking over the inlaid leaves made of gold and silver, thin copper branches holding them to the trunk of the tree. I'd found a book that listed the symbolic meanings of trees and found out the trees on my walls. Holly, oak and apple, all had powers of protection, promoted white magic and the creation of 'spiritual warriors.' Which, from what I've read, meant that they helped me be a good person.

I thought about getting up, maybe going in for the early shift at CJ's, then I remembered it was my day off. And four in the morning. Overall, I had been sleeping better after Jane fixed my soul, but today I felt like I did before, four hours was enough.

My phone rang from my nightstand, I blindly reached for it and flipped it open. "Sam?" I asked sleepily, knowing it was him.

"_Hey Nikki_." I heard Sam mumbled, unenthusiastic.

I got worried when I heard his tone. "Something wrong?"

"_Well...Uh...No, not really_." He got out after a moment.

"What happened?" I asked, concerned.

"_...You remember what I told you about our dad? How me'n Dean were looking for him?_" Sam asked slowly.

"Yeah," I said, trying to figure out where this was going. He'd slowly been letting me know what happened to get him and Dean into hunting over a series of emails. Now, I knew most if not all of the story.

"_Well, we found him_."

"Really? That's great!" I blurted.

"_He thinks he knows how to kill the demon, the, a, the one that killed my mom and Jess_." He said, still sounding reluctant.

I nodded, then remembered I was on the phone with him and he couldn't see me. "Yeah, well, isn't that a good thing?"

"_He's doing it on his own. Doesn't want our help_."

"Oh..." I trailed off, unsure what to say.

"_Yeah_." Sam sighed. "_Uh, what's new with you?_" Sam asked, abruptly changing the subject.

I sighed, falling back on my bed. "Not much. Can't sleep."

Sam chuckled a bit. "_Yeah, me neither._.._Hey, how'd you know it was me? I'm calling from a motel phone, it wouldn't have showed up on caller ID."_

I thought about what he said and my mind jumped to the fact that things like this have been happening to me all the time. Catching the orange, ducking when a drunk customer threw a bottle that would have hit me in the head, hesitating a second before stepping off the sidewalk, saving myself from being hit by a speeding car, and countless other little things. It was like I was expecting them to happen, like I knew they were going to happen.

"It's four in the morning, who else would be calling?" I lied, trying to brush it off. Sam made an indifferent sound before we lapsed into silence again.

"I sent you an email," I stated stupidly.

"_Yeah, yeah the exorcism. Where'd you find that?_" He asked, genuinely interested. That's one thing I really liked about Sam. He never pretended to be interested in anything. If he asked, he wanted to know.

"It was scribbled in the back of one of my grimoires, I saw the ones you guys had and thought you'd appreciate a shorter one." I admitted. I spent a good amount of my time going through books to find stuff to help the boys. "One of my ancestors came up with it."

"_Really?_"

"Yeah, apparently Jane's great-grandfather was a monk in France, he got if from some refugees who were fleeing Constantinople." I started to explain. "It didn't actually work when he got it, he had to work with a dark witch to-"

"_Hey, Nikki, I gotta go._" Sam cut me off.

"Oh." I said, cursing myself for rambling on and on. "Oh-Ok."

"_But I want to hear the rest of this story later, 'kay?_" I swear, I could hear him smiling.

"You got it," I agreed. "And Sam? Don't forget to call, ok? Dean too."

"_Wouldn't dream of it Nikki._"

"Bye." I said, a smile on my face.

"_Bye_." Then he hung up.

I sighed and dropped my phone onto my bed.

Why did I have to like him so much?


	23. Chapter 23

**Another chapter today! **

**This is sorta a filler chapter…*shrug***

**-**_**Christianne**_

**One Week Later**

Nikki POV

Today was my day off.

I was sitting in my living room, fully dressed, slouching on my sofa. I had no idea what to do.

I wanted to call Sam, we always had nice conversations. Which, of course, only made him more attractive in my mind. But we'd talked yesterday and I knew Dean tormented Sam after we talked, I didn't want to put him through that two days in a row. 

Jeremy, who I found out was also a hunter, was on a 'fishing' trip, and banned me from his house. His house was _full_ of information from everything he'd ever hunted. One more than one occasion I'd showed up at his door with a few notebooks and a pen, sat in his living room and wrote down new information from his journals for the index of creatures in my basement.

And, Wendy and Travis had banned me from CJ's.

I sighed sadly about how those were the only things I had to do.

Half an hour later, I thought of something to occupy my time; developing the film from my camera. 

I grabbed it from my room and headed to a large closet that I quickly converted into a dark room. I hummed to the radio as I went through the process of enlarging the negatives, dipping them into the chemicals and clipping them onto the strings I'd tacked on the wall, all by the light of a single red bulb.

I suddenly spun around, catching a glass bottle of bleach as it fell off the table. I put it back on the table and clipped the picture up on the string. 

I shook my head, trying to convince myself that it was just a side effect from my magic.

I felt weird saying that; _my magic._

Letting my pictures dry, I went down two flights of stairs to the kitchen, opening up a book about premonitions I'd grabbed from my shelf. As I paged through it, munching on french fries and a burger, I read about spells to get premonitions, spells to get rid of them, potions, incantations, everything. But none of it mentioned a subconscious knowledge of the future only seconds before it happened.

I sighed, resting my head in my hands as I stared at the book. I narrowed my eyes in concentration and watched as it shakily raised up several inches from the island. My head was actually started to hurt from how hard I was concentrating. I let go with a sighed, rubbing my temples. I'd looked ahead in the grimoires and saw levitation and movement of objects without a verbal or physical command. It was harder that I thought it would be.

All of this was harder than I thought it would be.

After my headache had subsided, I grabbed the herb book, a bucket, a pair of garden shears and gloves, planning to go find Jane's garden. After lacing up the boots Jeremy got me and grabbing the map from Jane's diary, I headed out into the property behind the estate.

I hadn't been out here much, there was never a need to. When I was younger and visited, Jeremy always told me to stay out of the woods, he said all the trails were overgrown and hard to follow. And dammit he was right. 

It was nearly impossible to follow the path to the garden. The journal said the garden was surrounded by a wrought iron fence with an arched gate, when I found one I just about giggled with pride; I thought I was _completely_ lost.

I pushed in the heavy gate and kicked away some brush. After I got a few steps in, I knew I had the wrong fence. 

I was staring at rows of tomb stones. Rows and _rows_ of tombstones, mausoleums and grave markers that must have been wooden crosses at one point.

I froze, dropping the bucket containing the herb book, shears and my gloves.

I remembered early in my research reading about how the death of Jane Howard was the top of the bell curve of Janesville. It went downhill from there.

And Jane's journal told me that the town's cemetery was on their property. 

"Oh God." I breathed, staring wide eyed at the graves. Rows and rows of headstones and mausoleums. 

The few that were closest to me caught my eye. 

"Oh _God_." I said again when I got closer.

Jane Howard

Howard Howard

Gretchen Howard

Cassidy Hart

Cassidy Hart was Mary Hart's son. I looked into him, apparently he committed suicide not too long before Jane was thrown in the river. Jane's journal said they wanted to run away together and get married.

I felt like someone was watching me. The feeling snuck up on me and I spun around. I didn't see anything. 

"Hello?" I called loudly, making a few birds fly away. I walked back to my bucket by the gate, and looked back at the cemetery one more time. When I did I gasped, taking a quick step back and tripping over the tangled brush that practically swallowed the whole cemetery whole.

There was a man standing in front of Cassidy's gravestone. 

I was about fifty yards away from him now, just at the gate. He was dressed in plain brownish pants that looked like they were made of wool, and a loose fitting white shirt. His face was smudged with dirt, and his hair was mostly covered by a hat, a straw hat with faded purple fabric tied above the brim, similar to the ones farmers wore. That, along with the dirt that covered him from head to toe, made his face hard to see. 

The truly horrifying part were the dark purple and black bruises around his neck. 

Like he was hung. 

His head tilted to one side as his eyebrows knit together. "Jane?" He asked, a slight southern twang in his voice as he spoke.

I didn't say anything, I just scrambled to my feet, grabbed the bucket with the book, gloves and shears inside and ran. I slammed the iron gate shut and _ran. _I sprinted back to my house and slammed the door shut behind me, locking the iron bolts. I was shaking as I dialed Sam's number.

"_Hey Nikki, what's up?_" Sam asked casually.

"G-Graveyard-C-Cassidy-Headstone-Ghost-Oh God, _cramp_!" I yelped, doubling over as I grabbed my side, still panting and out of breath.

"_Whoa, slow down-Did you say ghost?_" Sam asked, going from casual to concerned.

"Holy shit," I panted. "I have got to start jogging again. Maybe I'll start running to work." 

"_Nikki!_" Sam said loudly. "_What happened?_" 

"I-I was looking for the garden in Jane's journal, the one with all the herbs in the grimoires. Found the cemetery instead. Found Cassidy Hart's headstone-" 

"_Jane's boyfriend, right?_" Sam quickly asked. 

"Yeah, he just showed up all dead looking and called me Jane." I said, finally getting my breath back.

"_What? What happened after that?_" Sam pressed.

"I got the hell out of there!" I said, wondering what he thought I'd do. "I grabbed my book, slammed the gate and got the hell out!" 

"_Gate_?" 

"Yeah, yeah, gate, there's a wrought iron fence around the whole graveyard." I explained, focusing on that instead of the ghost on my property. 

"_If it's an iron fence he can't get out, you're fine in your house._" Sam said, trying to sound reassuring.

"I know." I groaned, falling back first onto my sofa. 

"_You do?_" Sam asked, sounding surprised. 

"I'm a friggin' witch. You don't think one of the first things I read was that ghosts don't like iron?" I snapped irritably, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. 

"_Well, if-if you knew that...then...Why'd you call?" _ He asked, sounding confused.

"I saw a guy come out of a headstone. You guys deal with freaky shit all the time! Pardon me for wanting to talk to someone about this won't think I needed to be committed!" I said, pinching the bridge of my nose as I spoke quickly. 

"_Ok...Ok!_" Sam laughed. I heard Dean yell something in the background. "_She just saw a ghost."_ Sam answered.

"_Just_ saw?" I asked, feeling mildly insulted. "I _just_ saw a ghost? A _Union_ Army soldier thought I was his _girlfriend_, who, by the way, is taking up residence in my _soul_, dropped in to say _hi_!" I snapped. 

"_Ok!_" Sam laughed. "_Ok, sorry!"_

"Yeah...Yeah you better be..." I mumbled, heading to my fridge to get a beer. 

"_You sure you're ok?" _ Sam asked, I popped the cap off my beer and took a drink before I answered. 

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine. Hey-if I keep that gate closed, how long with Cassidy stay in there?" I asked curiously. 

"_If the fence stays up, forever._" Sam said like it was no big deal. 

"Forever? Won't he, like, _pass on_ eventually, or something?" I asked, feeling...unhappy, about the idea of him wandering a graveyard for eternity.

"_The reason he's stuck here is because he won't pass on._" Sam explained. "_He's gonna be there until you let him out._" 

"Oh." I said. I knew that, but it seemed to hold new weight when Sam told me. 

"_Uh, we gotta go, Dean found a lead._" 

"Yeah, go kill something." I said, smiling as I took another drink of my beer. "And don't forget to call me!" 

"_We won't Nikki_," Sam groaned, I swear I could _hear_ him roll his eyes. "_Bye_." '_Bye Nik!_' I heard Dean yell in the background before Sam hung up.

I was still smiling as I shut my phone and took another drink of my beer.

"I am _never_ going to that graveyard again." I said out loud.


	24. Chapter 24

**Well, today was supposed to be my last day of exams, but like yesterday, SNOW DAY. Normaly, I'm all hyper and excited on snow days, but this is the second one in a row and now I have to take my exams next week. I JUST WANT THEM OVER WITH. **

**Ok. I'm done. **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"Thanks Jeremy," I said, hoisting the heavy bucket onto my kitchen island. "I owe you one."

"'s fine, 's fine..." The old hunter said, waving it off. "You sure you don't want me to take care of that spirit roamin' around 'yer graveyard?"

"Yes, I can handle him." I said, pushing him out the door. He just chuckled and ruffled my hair before leaving.

I'd procrastinated for over a week about finding Jane's herb garden. When I couldn't move forward in my magic without the herbs. I asked Jeremy to help me find it and take his shotgun (with rock salt shells) with. He agreed, of course.

I'd found a big crate in the basement full of bottles, jars, vials and any kind of container you could think to put something in. There was even a bag to carry the herbs in, it had three sets of buckles; one on the top flap, holding it shut, three on the side, three on the bottom. If you undid all of them, the bag laid flat, showing the perfectly sized pouches for holding the bottles, jars and vials.

The herb book I'd found said that some herbs had to be ground into powder, some needed the leaves separated from the stems, stuff like that. But all of them needed to be dried, and blessed before that. Dried, for obvious reasons, blessed so that they actually worked. It's like if you eat blueberries, you won't have the advantage of a protection plant, but if you ate blueberries blessed by a white witch, like me, you would.

I laid all the herbs out on the island, and covered them with a cloth I found folded up in one of the trunks. I sprinkled salt on the gray pentagram on the cloth and then held my hands over it, palms down. Technically, I was supposed to have my eyes closed, but I didn't have the incantation memorized, so I had to cheat a little. I didn't really expect it to work. This was way more advanced than anything I've ever done.

"_Ego in aquam iussit et eius maledictione a sacra herbam eum_." I said slowly, focusing my energy to the palms of my hands like the grimoires said. "_Ego in aquam iussit et eius maledictione a sacra herbam eum_."

As I kept repeating the incantation, I closed my eyes, opening them only now and then when I forgot a word. Soon, I heard what sounded like a crunch. I stopped chanting, and lifted a corner of the cloth. I grinned and threw it off. Every herb was dried like it had been hanging up for weeks.

I was still grinning when I started grinding saffron into powder.

_It was like radio static. _

"_Unit 22, let me confirm. Mile marker 41, abandoned car. I need a workup."_

"_Copy that." Another voice said, in the same staticy voice. _

_Manning. _

_There were mountains. Snowcapped like in a fairy tale._

_It was like a log cabin. Sort of. A very small log cabin. One room. _

_Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean where there. _

_Sprawled out on two beds in the cabin-room, asleep._

_There was another man where. Older than the boys. Dark hair, tall. _

_Colt._

_Fighting. There was a lot of fighting and violence. _

_And blood. A lot of blood. So much blood._

_Innocent people were going to get hurt._

_The boys where going to get hurt. Sam and Dean where going to get hurt-_

I gasped as I sat up in bed.

I was sweating, my head pounding.

I felt like I had just ran a mile, my lungs burned.

I stumbled into my bathroom, turned on the faucet and stuck my head under it, greedily gulping in water. Once my throat no longer burned, I straightened up, resting my hands on the sides of the sink.

"Damn stillengia," I groaned, wiping water off my chin. The book said to wear a mask when grinding stillengia, an herb known for its psychic and premonition enabling powers, into powder. It was one of the only herbs that was effective by inhalation, I, of course, ignored the suggestion to wear a mask. And now I had that dream...

"Oh God." I breathed, wide eyed.

I ran down three flights of stairs to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then grabbed my laptop from the study I barely used.

Taking a drink of my coffee, I pulled up a search engine.

I typed in _Manning_, and was about to hit search. When I got over 30,100,000 results, I realized that was too broad.

Mountains. In my dream, when I saw mountains. Tall, snow covered mountains. Mountains like that, there _had_ to be a ski resort around there.

I searched _Manning skiing USA_. Only results I got where for ski lodges in Manning, Colorado.

Now that I knew Manning was actually a real place, I called Sam, not caring it was four in the morning.

"_It's Sam. Leave a message._"

I groaned, hung up and called Dean.

"_This is Dean, leave your nightmare after the beep."_

I called Dean's other number (Sam gave me all three).

"_This is Dean's other cell, you should not have this number. Leave your nightmare after the beep._"

I groaned and called the last number.

"_This is Dean's other, _**_other_**,_ cell. You should know what to do by now._"

"Damnit!" I huffed, snapping my phone shut as I leaned back in my stool. I looked back at my computer, and stared at the map on my screen, a little flag where Manning was.

I made one more search and dialed the number I found.

"Hello?-Yes, I'd like to buy a bus ticket." I said when someone answered.

"_To where, dear?_" The woman asked, sounding bored.

"Manning, Colorado."


	25. Chapter 25

**Second chapter of the day!**

**Ok, this chapter, I really don't like that much.**

**I'm gonna be getting into the last three episodes of Season 1, if you didn't know, and trying to put an OC in an episode without it being awkward is a little harder than I thought it'd be. Any advice on that would be awesome! **

**Well, enjoy!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

After I bought my ticket, I left a message at CJ's, telling Wendy and Travis that I was going out of town for a few days. I also called Jeremy, telling him I what _really_ happened. I'm not sure why I did, he was on a fishing trip. He always left his phone at home when he went fishing.

I threw a few sets of clothes in my duffle bag, mostly jeans, t-shirts, a few long sleeved shirts, a couple hoodies and the boots from Jeremy. I dumped the remaining college stuff out of my backpack, and put in the next three grimoires, the herb book, a book focusing on premonitions, and a thick index of everything supernatural and Wicca. I tossed the herb-bag into my backpack too, making sure to toss in more fevervfew blossoms. Feverfew, if ingested, hid the human sent from vampires. I grabbed a box from the weapons table in the basement room too.

After I made sure I had everything, I tugged on my Converse and jacket. I threw my backpack over my shoulder, duffle bag in hand as I took off from my house in a brisk walk to the bus station.

"_It's Sam. Leave a message._"

I was to the point of pouting. I'd called all the numbers twice from the bus station. Still no answer.

"Ok Sam, this is the...I think _fifth_ message I've left you. Unless you call me in the next ten minutes before my bus leaves, I'm going to Manning, Colorado. See you there." I said, hanging up.

I stared at my phone as I waited for the bus to come, biting my thumb nail the whole time. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to ring, or if I didn't want it to ring.

In all honesty I didn't want to go fight _vampires_. Sure, I knew how and everything; Jeremy had taught me a few pointers. But from Jeremy's firsthand accounts, and what I've read, they were some nasty SOBs.

On the other hand if they didn't know, they were going to be slaughtered. I wasn't going to let that happen.

When the bus pulled up to the station, Sam and Dean hadn't called me back. I found an empty seat in the back and tossed my dufflebag on the rack above it before I fell down into the seat.

It was a twenty five hour ride. Of those 25 hours, I slept for 15 minutes, had a granola bar and a bottle of water and made a Post-It ninja star for a 6 year old who was getting antsy sitting next to his grandma.

Given that, when I got off the bus station in Manning, I felt like I was a part of the walking dead. I stumbled into the bathrooms, dropping my backpack and duffel bag on the floor to lean on the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the cold floor. I was going to be as useless as a white crayon in this condition, so, I took a risk.

I dug around in my herb bag after locking the bathroom door; I didn't need anyone coming in and thinking I was getting high or something. I found the small jar with 'Pennyroyal blossoms' written on the label and grabbed one. They had the ability to enhance stamina, improve overall health and, basically, act like a thousand shots of espresso. It tasted _disgusting._ I stuck my face under the sink to try and get rid of the bitter taste, getting my hair damp in the process.

Almost instantly I felt better. The circles under my eyes got smaller and lighter, energy was pumping through my veins, making me stand straighter and even getting rid of the kinks in my neck.

Five minutes later I was walking out of the bathroom wearing a fresh pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt under my jacket and my boots laced up. My backpack was slung over my shoulder and I was carrying my duffle bag carelessly in my right hand while my left held a cheap map that the half-asleep attendant at the bus station had shown me the rout to the Buck Hunter Inn, the cheapest in the city. I got there in a little under half an hour later, frowning at the Impala-less parking lot.

I walked into the musty motel office, walking directly to the desk manned by a middle aged man with greasy hair. Without missing a beat I dropped my duffle bag in front of the counter and leaned on the desk, waiting to be acknowledged.

"I'm looking for my boyfriend." I stated flatly when the man didn't look up. He grunted. "Tall, brown hair, traveling with his brother?" Still nothing.

"Thanks, you've been a real help." I groaned, picking my bag back up.

"Room ten." The guy finally grunted, eyes still glued to the TV behind the counter.

"Oh," I said, pausing in the door. I dropped my bag again. "Well, think I could have a room key? You know, do surprise him?" I asked, faking a suggestive smile as I batted my eyelashes.

Wordlessly, he tossed a key on the counter. I grabbed it and my bag before walking out the door, towards the door with a gold '10' on the door. Still no Impala in the parking lot, but I knocked anyway. After a few seconds of silence, I dropped my duffle bag by the door and pushed the key in the lock.

I pushed the door open, almost smiling as I saw the salt line under the door. I stepped over it, slipping one arm out of my backpack as I looked around the room. The lights where off, shades drawn and almost every flat surface was cluttered with papers, all describing exactly what I saw.

I was looking at one of the articles taped to the wall when I heard a click.

"Put down the backpack and tell me what the hell you are doing here."


	26. Chapter 26

**Well, here's the chapter! **

**I'm still having a hard time putting Nikki into episodes (by the way, thanks **sb12345**!). So…Don't be too harsh on me. **

**I'm also having a hard time with John. You see how he is with Sam and Dean, but I'm not sure how he'd be with someone else, especially when that someone else is a witch. So, any advice on that would help too. :)**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

The use of stillangia throughout history has been one of the main reasons witches like myself are still alive. If a non-born witch blessed stillangia, it'd be deadly. When a born-witch blesses it, it gains extraordinary powers of premonition. It alerted my relatives of the Salem trials and countless other events.

So _why_ couldn't it tell me that I was going to have a gun to my head?

I dropped my backpack by my feet, otherwise frozen. I heard the door shut and felt a hand grab me, making me flinch. It pushed me towards the table and down into a chair.

I could see who was holding a gun to my head now; the older man from my vision.

"Who are you?" He asked flatly. The hand that was holding the gun was still and his gaze was calculated-he _would_ shoot me.

"N-Nikki, Nikki Blake," I said, taking deep breaths to try and keep from panicking.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"I-I'm looking for Sam and Dean." I said, my tone steadier than when I first spoke. "Do you think you can put the gun down?" I asked quickly.

"Why are you looking for Sam and Dean?" He demanded again.

"I'll tell you everything _if you put the gun d_-" I had been speaking slowly to try and keep the panic from my voice, but when he threw water from a flask on my face, I cut myself off and shut my eyes against the holy water. I spat out a mouth full of it and wiped it from my eyes. "I'm not a demon."

He narrowed his eyes at me before, thankfully, putting the gun in the waistband of his pants. He turned his back to me for a second, before turning back, knife in hand. Oh crap.

"Hand." He demanded, holding out his own.

"Excuse me?" I asked slowly, unsure exactly what he was planning on doing. When he didn't answer me, I looked down at my lap and raised my hands to push the wet hair that had been plastered to my forehead with holy water out of my eyes.

"Hey!" I yelped when he grabbed my forearm, pinning it to the table and forcing the sleeve of my jacket up.

"Let me g-_Ow_!" I yelped again, feeling a swift slice on my inner forearm. I used all my strength to pull my arm back, seeing a deep, long cut on my arm, gushing blood.

"What the _hell_ was that for?" I asked loudly, grabbing one of the cleaner rags on the table, pressing it to the wound on my arm. He didn't say anything as he stared at me, knife still in hand. I felt a little sick when I saw a drop of my blood trickle down the edge of the blade, and hang off the sharp point before dropping to the floor. It made a dime sized red spot on the floor.

"Oh, right, werewolf," I stated, pushing on my rag-covered arm to try and stop the bleeding. "Shifters too, neither really likes silver, right?" He just staring at me.

"Hey! I'm new at this! Cut me some slack will 'ya?" I said, laughing nervously. He ignored me, grabbing my backpack from the floor and tossing it on one of the beds, opening it up.

Please oh please don't. Please-

The man spun around swiftly, surprisingly so for someone his age, holding the gun again. "You're a witch." He growled.

"I-I prefer the term Wicca," I said quietly, shrinking back in on myself as he took a step closer to me. I looked to see if there was a chance the safety was still on the gun, but no such luck.

"Why are you looking for Sam and Dean?" He demanded again, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot me if he didn't like the answer. "Why are you looking for my sons?"

This was their _dad_? Damnit. I was hoping he'd be a _little_ more open minded than this.

The fact the this was _John Winchester_ only made me believe more that he was going to kill me no matter what I said. Jeremy told me a little about him; he wouldn't just let me walk away.

I just looked up at him wordlessly. I clasped my hands tightly together in my lap, praying that he wouldn't kill me.

Omniscient POV

"I'm just sayin'!" Sam defended himself as he got out of the Impala. "You could _at least_ get some new tapes."

"And **I'm **_just sayin'_ shut your cake hole," Dean snapped back, throwing one of the plastic bags at his brother. The two were just returning to the motel after making a food and amo run. Sam shook his head and mumbled profanities under his breath.

He almost ran into Dean, who had stopped a few steps from the motel door. Sam followed his brother's gaze and saw a black duffle bag on the ground next to the door and a key in the lock. The part that really grabbed Sam's attention was the tag on the handle of the bag; it was blue with 'N.B.' written on it.

After sharing a quick look with his brother, they dropped the bags and ran into the motel room.


	27. Chapter 27

**Second update today!**

**This is the longest one yet! I'm pretty proud of myself for cranking two chapters out in one day! R&R!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

I whipped my head over to the door when it slammed open.

"_Dad_!" Sam said, sounding both appalled, concerned and angry all at the same time. He quickly walked over to me, past his father to squat down next to me in the chair, his eyes (which _I swear_ where more beautiful then I remembered) quickly scanning over me, analyzing my arm before pulling me up.

"Nikki?" Dean asked, grabbing my bag from outside, as well as the three or four bags that had been dropped in front of the door, before locking it. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"I swear I'll tell you all _everything_ as soon as _your dad_ puts his gun away." I said all in one breath, stumbling one step back, trying discreetly to hide behind Sam's large frame.

"Dad, put the gun down," Sam said lowly, clearly not happy with his father.

"She's a _witch_ Sam." John growled, keeping the gun aimed at my head.

"Yeah, we know," Dean said from the other side of the motel room.

"You _know_?" John said. Going by his tone alone, you would have thought Dean had said 'We boil puppies for fun.'

"You _knew_ she's a _witch_ and you didn't _kill her_?" Neither Winchester son said anything.

"Dean, what the hell were you thinking?" John asked, turning around to face his older son.

Dean shrugged, at a loss for words. "She wasn't hurting anyone. Nikki's...not…like, _other_ witches." He vaguely explained.

"All the more reason to put a bullet in her heart." John said lowly, turning back to me while checking to see if there was a round in the chamber. "Sam. Move." He ordered, holding his gun up again.

"No." Sam said defiantly, moving more in front of me. I was trying to be brave and all, but I couldn't stop myself from gripping the back of Sam's sleeve in a white knuckle grip. He sent me a quick look, reassuring me.

"Sam..." John said, like he was about to start lecturing his son.

"She hasn't done anything!" Sam suddenly burst out, practically yelling at his father. "If you kill her, you're killing an _innocent_ girl!" Normally, I would've said something about him calling me a 'girl,' but he was making my case, so I stayed quiet.

"She's a _witch_, none of them are _innocent_." John spat, like that statement made him holding a gun to me.

"I know where they are." I said suddenly, grasping at straws to stay alive. "The-The vampires," I added after I got three confused looks.

"Probably working with them," John snapped.

"You guys are looking for a gun, right?" I asked. "The Colt, or-or something?"

"How do you know about the Colt?" Dean asked, confused.

"I accidentally inhaled a mildly hallucinogenic plant dust that gives my kind premonitions." I said truthfully, not really caring about what I said anymore. I already dug my hole, may as well try to dig to China.

John skeptically raised an eyebrow at me, still holding the gun towards me. I gave him an exasperated look. "What do I have to do to get you to put that gun down?" I asked weakly.

"Get the hell out of Manning." John snapped. "And leave my sons alone."

"Sorry, can't do either of those things." I said honestly. "I leave, you all get slaughtered by Dracula's minions, and as to the leaving Sam and Dean alone thing, they are the only ones who have a stranger life than I do, and, it's nice to have a conversation about demons without having someone think you need to be committed." I said it all in one breath, mildly out of breath when I was done.

"I'm here to help." I said firmly, looking past Sam (who looking like he just wanted me to _stop talking_) at John. It almost made me shiver seeing how cold and hard his eyes were.

When no one spoke for about a minute, I turned to look at Dean. "Can-Can you look in my backpack? There should be a wrapped box in there, red paper black twine."

Wordlessly, Dean grabbed my backpack. Instead of looking through it, he grabbed the bottom and dumped it all out on the bed. He pushed aside the books, then held up the small, wrapped box. "This?" he asked.

I nodded. "Be a lamb and open it up." I said, glancing nervously at John, whose gaze was trained on me, but slipping to look at Dean every few seconds as he grumbled about my choice of words and tore off the paper, carelessly dropping it on the floor. He opened the small hinged wooden box.

"Thanks, but we have enough of these," he said, walking over and dropping the open box on the table, letting Sam and John see the gold bullets resting on a dusty velvet rag.

"Not like these. Not with dead man's blood in them." I said, happy I decided to bring them. Maybe this would earn me some points.

"You can't put dead man's blood in a bullet," John snapped. "Doesn't stay in when you shoot it. Even if it did, it'd burn up before it left the barrel."

"Yeah, if someone like _you_ tried to make them. Someone like _me_ tried to do it, works better than an arrow." I said, smirking slightly.

"Bullshit." John snapped.

"I'm here to help," I said again.

After narrowing his eyes at me, John put down his gun, making me sigh a deep breath of relief. He put the gun on the table and motioned to talk to Dean on the other side of the motel room. Dean ripped his gaze away from the bullets and followed his father. As they spoke in hushed tones, I fell back into the chair, my heart still hammering.

"Nikki...What the hell were you thinking?" Sam asked me, sitting next to me at the table. "If you...If you _saw_, something, you should have called us, not come down here."

"I did call you!" I defended myself. "I called you, Dean, Dean's other phone, his _other_ phone, nothing!" I got up and grabbed my herb bag, falling back onto the chair and grabbing the gauze and tape already on the cluttered top.

"For all I knew you guys were going in blind!" I snapped again, my voice starting to tremble again as I rolled out a short length of gauze, using a small knife to cut it before I unclasped my bag, laying it flat on the table as I looked for wintergreen.

"I-I saw you guys get _slaughtered_...You two saved my life, I couldn't just sit back at wait to hear third hand from Jeremy that two of the best hunters were killed like fish in a barrel!" My voice was almost trembling uncontrollably as I took a pinch of the wintergreen leaves, crushing them into tiny flakes onto the gauze.

I tried to cut the gauze, but my hand was shaking so much I couldn't get the knife to stay still enough. Sam wordlessly put a hand on my wrist, taking the knife from me. I let him cut the gauze, pressing my free hand to the gash in my arm.

"Technically, we didn't save your life. Jane wasn't going to kill you." Sam mumbled, deep in thought going by the look on his face. "She just needed to bind your souls before the demons ripped it in half." He added, gesturing for me to put my arm on the table. I did, my cheeks threating to blush as he peeled the red soaked rag off my arm gently.

I sent him an annoyed look through the fluttering haze growing in my stomach. "Not really what I need to hear right now." I said quickly, making him look down, his cheeks red in embarrassment.

I moved to start wrapping my own arm, but Sam gently swatted it away, reaching for the wintergreen-sprinkled gauze. I started to reach for the gauze again, but this time Sam held my injured arm down on the table, and grabbed the other one, dropping it in my lap. I narrowed my eyes at him, annoyed, as he wrapped the wintergreen gauze around my cut. He didn't look up, but I saw his cheeks where still dusted that embarrassed pink.

I looked over my shoulder when Dean spoke loudly. "Well maybe we were _wrong_!" I heard him sit walked over to the table and angrily pull out a chair before sitting across from me.

I looked down quickly when he saw me looking at him, and saw Sam still wrapping my arm, red soaking through the bandage. "Shit...Did you have to cut me so damn deep?" I asked, looking at John.

He shrugged. "I didn't like your attitude." He reasoned sarcastically. I held in the urge to roll my eyes at him. That wouldn't help me.

"You know where the nest is?" Dean asked randomly.

"Yeah, fourth turn off from the highway going south, three miles down, fifth left after the dead deer, red barn. Lots of beat up cars in front of it." I said, sending Sam a grateful smile as he kept wrapping my arm.

"And how do you know this?" John asked.

"I saw it," I said simply, wincing slightly as Sam pressed tape to my cut to keep the gauze together. "Wanna go and see?" I asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at John's doubtful expression. I didn't care if he hated me and what I did, but _don't_ underestimate what I can do. Even before I found out what I could do I didn't like that.

"Let's go." John said, grabbing his jacket, putting his gun in his waistband again. Sam and Dean did the same. I threw the bloody rag in the trash and grabbed my own jacket, which I'd taken off to clean my wound. I carefully pulled my sleeve over the cut, and buckled my herb bag up, tossing it over my shoulder, the dead man's blood bullets in it.

"Nikki," Sam said, stopping me as I was walking out the door, following Dean and John. "You're really stupid, you know that?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and cocking my hip at his words. I'd never heard him say anything like that before.

"You came here, to fight _vampires_, and you keep pushing my dad's buttons-He _will_ kill you, you know that, right?" He asked, walking closer to me. I nodded. "So leave, let us take care of the vamps."

"Nope. Not happening Sam-Not-Sammy," I said, remembering when I'd called him that at the diner almost a month ago. Seemed like years ago. "This is what I'm _born_ to do…stupid."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled once as I used his own insult against him. "Just-Just tread carefully, ok?"

"Ok," I promised, then was surprised when he grabbed me in a quick hug. His long arms looped under my own, one hand in the middle of my back, the other right under it. He gave me one tight, quick squeeze before letting go, just as Dean sharply honked the Impala's horn twice.

"C'mon! Kiss and makeup later!" He yelled from the driver's seat.

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door. "It's good to see you, you know." He told me as we walked across the parking lot towards Dean's Impala and John's black pick-up.

"You look..." He trailed off. I felt my heart flutter in anticipation for his next words.

"...Better, like you've been getting more sleep or something." He finished. I nodded, feeling a little let down.

"Yeah, I have," I mumbled, opening the back door of the Impala behind Sam.

"You, uh, what's your name, witch?" John asked gruffly from the cab of his truck. I, again, held in an eye roll.

"Nikki, my name's Nikki." I said flatly.

"You're riding with me." John said. It wasn't a request, it was more like a statement; an order.

"Sir yes sir," I muttered sarcastically under my breath.


	28. Chapter 28

**Another chapter up! **

**Quick question for all of you; when I start Season 2, should I keep it in this or publish it separately? I know I kinda already asked that, but I overthink things all the time…So…**

**Enjoy the chapter! R&R!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"_Sir yes sir," I muttered sarcastically under my breath_ as I shut the door of the Impala and walked around to the passenger side of the truck, all while sending Sam and Dean worried looks. Dean's face was void of emotion, and Sam's looked controlled, like he was fighting the urge to say something.

I dropped my bag at my feet as I fastened my seatbelt in the passenger seat. The truck growled to life and John peeled out of the parking lot, making me grip the edge of my jacket so hard the zipper teeth dug into my palm.

"So what else you got in your bag of tricks." John asked flatly after about fifteen minutes of driving.

"I-Well…_Huh_?" I asked, not wanting to say the wrong thing and end up on the side of the road.

"The bag." John said, nodding towards my latched bag at my feet.

"Oh...It-It has all my herbs and plants, a few grimouirs and stuff...I thought in case anyone got hurt I could do something until we got to a hospital or to a first aid kit or something. And I have feverfew, it is to vampires as rattlesnake root is to werewolves." I explained quickly.

"Wolfsbane, you use wolfsbane to mask your stink from werewolves." John corrected me harshly, sharply taking the fourth turn off.

"Wolfsbane makes you smell like a werewolf or a dog or something, but they can still smell you. Rattlesnake root is one of the few scent werewolves can't smell _at all_. You could stand right behind one and it wouldn't smell anything remotely human-y, if you ingested anyway." I said quickly, playing with my fingers. John didn't say anything, but made a quiet 'Huh' sound.

"B-But feverfew, feverfew you have to ingest it and it has to be in your system for at least ten minutes for it to take effect." I added, unable to stop talking. "I-I don't know if that'd work with rattlesnake root though, I mean I'd bet it'd taste like shit, it _smells_ like shit. I know feverfew has to be in your body for it to work, 'cause vampires smell your blood, not your meat and skin or whatever werewolves smell, so-"

"Nikki. Stop talking." John said as we passed a dead deer on the side of the road, its guts smeared over the pavement, and a few crows picking at its smashed head.

"Ok." I said automatically, going back to playing with my fingers.

"Why do you careabout my sons?" He asked a few minutes later.

I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're a witch, different or good, you're still a witch. If you had any brain at all when you found out they were hunters, you should'a made them choke on their own blood." John explained to me, like it was obvious.

"I wasn't a witch when I met them." I stated, looking back down at my hands. I could feel John's stare burning into the side of my face.

"I'm related to this Civil War girl who was a witch and killed for it. Technically, it wasn't her fault, she was possessed when she killed someone, but they killed her anyway. And, I sorta died when I was a baby and apparently demons she threw back in the pit wanted revenge, so they tried to tear my soul in half.

"Jane, the witch that was killed, was trying to save me and kinda ended up haunting me in the process. After she bound her soul to mine I got the abilities that were reincarnated when I was born, or, she said something like that..." I trailed off, counting the second turn off from the dead deer. I looked back at John when he didn't say anything, he was staring out the windshield, his face blank.

"I-I didn't really have a choice...If I tried to not use my abilities or ignore them it'd be dangerous." I mumbled. "One sneeze and I could accidently blow up a house."

"Dean said you knew Jeremy Ross." John stated as we passed the third turn off.

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah he and Charlie were like my uncles. He's been training me, well, as best he can. He's not as young as he used to be."

John nodded slowly. "He trusts you?"

I hesitated. "Yeah, I think so, I hope so. I think he trusts me to not turn into the Wicked Witch of the West."

"And...Sam and Dean, they trust you?" He asked skeptically.

"I _hope_ they do. I trust them, completely." I said honestly.

"Completely." John repeated, turning onto the fifth turn off after the dead deer.

"Yeah, with my life." I said as he pulled to a stop in a clearing, Dean stopping the Impala behind us.

John let out a low, irritated groan as he got out. I got out too, grabbing the jar of feverfew blossoms.

"Well, here we are, no nest." John growled at me.

This time, I did roll my eyes. "Here, each of you, eat one'a these," I said, taking one for myself as I held the feverfew out.

"What the hell are those?" Dean asked, looking into the jar of dried blossoms with disgust.

"Feverfew. It'll hide the human stink, or they'll smell us a mile away. The only reason they don't smell us now is because the wind is in our favor." I explained.

Sam hesitantly reached in and took one of the dried flowers, looking at it with scrutinizing eyes as Dean did the same. I held the jar out to John, who glared at me as he took one.

"What'a these things taste like?" Dean asked, somewhat childishly if you ask me.

"Going by how they smell, not good," Sam amended, looking at the flower in his palm with a scrunched up nose.

Dean mumbled something before opening the back seat of the Impala and returning with a bottle of whisky. He seemed to take a deep breath before throwing the flower in his mouth and taking a long drink of the amber liquid. When he took the bottle away from his mouth, he made a disgusted face.

"_God…_ That tasted like ass." He said, coughing slightly.

"Yeah, well, it makes your blood taste funky to vampires, so if they bite you, the taste'll be so disgusting they'll drop you and puke. That's what my book says anyway," I explained as Sam took the bottle from Dean and did the same thing with his own flower. He coughed slightly before handing me the whisky.

I hesitated, I didn't usually drink whisky, actually, I didn't usually drink _at all_. Well, before. When I started to have vampire and ghost problems I had a beer now and then.

But, a little alcohol in my body might calm me down. I took the bottle, seeing John taking a long drink from a flask in his jacket. I copied Sam and Dean's actions and saw quickly why they coughed. The dried flower was bitter, really, _really_ bitter. I winced as the whisky burned my throat and coughed a few times before I handed the bottle back to Dean, who took another drink before screwing the cap back on and tossing it back in the back seat.

"The nest is that way," I said, pointing to the left of the Impala. John went ahead and started down the hill. I put the jar back in my bag and followed Dean and Sam.

"Hey, Nik, that feverview-" Dean started

"Feverfew." Sam and I corrected at the same time.

"Yeah, whatever, it isn't gonna make my shadow glow or something weird like that, is it?" Dean asked as we followed John.

"No...No weird side effects." I told him. "Besides, its larch blossom that makes a person's shadow glow."

"What?" Dean asked, stopping to stare at me, shocked. "You mean you can actually _do_ that? Make someone's shadow glow?"

"With the right incantation and plants I can do just about anything." I said honestly, taking the hand Sam held out to help me over a large fallen tree.

"Is that true, what you said about doing just about anything?" Sam asked quietly after he quickly dropped my hand. I nodded, tucking my hands into my pockets.

"Yeah, within reason." I spoke.


	29. Chapter 29

Nikki POV

"See?" I said, crouching down so I was out of easy view. "Red barn, old cars in front of it."

Sam and Dean looked mildly impressed, John was ignoring me, glaring at the barn. 

An old car pulled up to the barn and a guy wearing a black shirt got out quickly, slamming the door. The barn door opened, another guy with long black hair got out, shielding his eyes from the barely-there sunlight.

"I know what time it is." Black-Shirt snapped at Long-Hair.

"Get in." Long-Hair snapped, shoving the other guy in, shutting the door behind him.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

"Shouldn't they be, like, _ash_ or something?" I asked, looking between the three men for an explanation. 

"Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn, but it won't kill them." John explained. "The only way to do that is-" 

"Beheading." I mumbled, not realizing I'd cut him off.

"Yeah, she's right." John said, sounding surprised. I just shrugged. "And yeah, they sleep during the day, but that doesn't mean they won't wake up." 

"So I guess walking right in isn't our best option." Dean groaned.

"Actually, that's the plan." John informed his sons. I just sighed, praying that what I'd seen wasn't going to come true.

After walking another half mile, we were back at the cars. Dean went straight to the trunk of the Impala and propped the hatch open with a shotgun. He took out a machete and handed it to Sam, who put it on his belt, then took one out for himself.

I watch, almost wanting to laugh as John pulled a machete from the automated-looking thing that came out of the back of his truck. It made Dean's Impala hatch look like a child's toy trunk next to a wall safe.

"Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," Dean said, holding out the huge knife.

I watched as John took the sheath off a long, shiny blade, razor sharp on one side, teeth on the other. "Think I'm ok, thanks," he said. I almost laughed again.

"Wow." Dean said, stunned at his father's arsenal.

"So...You really want to know about this Colt?" John asked, mainly towards Sam and Dean, but he glanced at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it.

"You know something 'bout it?" John asked, looking at me skeptically.

"Uh...The Colt Legend...The-The gun was made by Samuel Colt, right? I read something about it in one of my grim-books. In-In one of my books. It was made in 18-something or other for a hunter, when Halley's Comet was flying by-the night of the Alamo I think. It was a special gun, with 13 special bullets. The hunter he made it for used 6 of them before he and the gun dropped off the face of the earth. What made the gun so legendary was that it supposedly can kill anything." I said.

Apparently I got the story right, because John nodded and said "I didn't believe any of it until I read Daniel's letter. I don't know how he got it..."

"Kill anything," Dean repeated what I said. "Like, are kind of anything? _Supernatural_ anything?"

"Like the demon," Sam realized. 

"Yeah, the demon." John said, nodding. "Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing...Find the gun...We may have it."

I stayed silent, watching Sam and Dean stare at their father. My guess is that they were hurt that they weren't kept in the loop, and having a strange feeling of relief that what they've been trying to do all their lives might be possible.

"So, you're getting the gun," I said, looking at John. "You two are keeping watch," I looked at Sam and Dean. "What am I doing?" I asked, glancing quickly at the empty

"What do you mean 'what am I doing'?" Dean repeated gruffly, adjusting the machete on his belt.

"I may be a witch, not a damn warrior like you guys, but I'm not useless." I said honestly, cocking my hip and leaning on John's truck.

"What?" Sam asked, clearly confused.

I paused, looking at the faces of the two brothers. "I _am_ coming with you." I said slowly. "You know that, _right_?"

"Like hell!" Dean said, almost chuckling. 

"Nikki-You aren't trained, you've never hunted _anything_-" Sam started to lecture me.

"Jeremy Ross has been training her," John said, walking behind Dean to get the third machete from the trunk.

"You think can get out alive?" He asked, holding the large knife out to me. I looked from him, to the machete, then back at him as I took it, running the strap through my belt loops.

"Dad, you can't be serious," Sam said, laughing humorlessly. "She's gonna get herself killed!"

"She knows the risks." John said simply.

"She's never hunted _anything_ and you think a good first are _vampires_?" Dean asked incredulously. "They'll rip her apart!"

"I'm not a fragile little girl!" I snapped, sticking the gun in my waistband. "I _am_ a pretty kick ass witch. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I'm sure you can," Dean waved me off, then kept arguing with his dad.

I narrowed my eyes at him, planning to hit him over the head or something, but instead, I slowly back up into the woods, following the path back to the barn. They'd see I was gone soon enough.


	30. Chapter 30

Nikki POV

I'd ditched my bag back at the Impala and used the leather tie to keep the long machete blade from thumping against my thigh. The sun was high in the sky when I got to the barn, and not a noise came from any direction.

I wondered how long it took them to realize I wasn't behind them while they argued with me as I found a pair of doors at the back of the barn, about five feet up. I used a hay bale as a step up, and the ledge to pull myself over. I left the doors open a crack, signaling to the Winchesters where I'd gone in. I slowly turned around and silently hoped down to the floor.

I saw vampires. Lots of vampires. Sleeping in hammocks. 

I kept one hand on the handle of the machete on my hip, and used the other to guide myself around the wall as my eyes were glued to the sleeping vampires. 

A hand came over my mouth tightly, making me yelp.

It pulled me away from the wall around a corner. I would have screamed, but then I'd wake up the vampires. So, my only option was to struggle silently against the hand over my mouth and the one around my waist quickly pushing me backwards. I felt my back hit the rough wood of the wall. 

"Shh," I heard Sam say in my ear. He was so close I could feel his warm breath on my neck. He had sandwiched me between him and the wall so we were hidden in the shadows, his hand still over my mouth. I saw one of the vamps squirm in their sleep before settling down. I stared up at Sam, trying to portray annoyance, but that was hard considering how close he was, I could have just-

"What the hell were you thinking?" He hissed at me. I shrugged, shoving the thoughts back and gently moved his hand away from my mouth.

I shrugged before speaking. "Not the worst thing I've done." Sam glared at me. "Well I'm here now, so suck it up." I said quietly, my lips forming an involuntary smirk. Sam shook his head as he grabbed my wrist, towing me to where Dean was.

"I'm gonna kill you later!" Dean hissed at me. I rolled my eyes, but, I felt an odd feeling of approval, like I was _happy_ he was protective over me. I shook it off. 

"Where's John?" I breathed, following the boys. Dean shrugged. I followed Sam ahead, and jumped when a bottle was knocked over. I jumped, grabbing instinctively to Sam's sleeve as I spun around. I saw Dean, frozen, with an overturned bottle by his feet and a swinging hammock in front of him. Thankfully, the vamp stayed asleep.

I forced myself to let go of Sam's sleeve and followed him over to a woman tied up. She was spattered with blood and had several bite marks on her neck and arms. 

"Dean," Sam called quietly. "She's still alive." I was a bit shocked, but bent down to untie one of her hands, while Sam did the other. A cry made us all freeze. 

"There's more." I breathed, shocked. Dean got up and walked towards the cries. I jumped when the sound of a nail scraping wood echoed through the barn. Nothing happened. The sound came again. Still nothing. 

The woman began to stir, her eyes lazily fluttering open. I didn't say anything, letting Sam talk to her. His voice was more comforting than mine. 

"Hey, hey, shh," he said quietly. "We're here to help you." He said softly. We both jumped back when she screamed. The vampires woke up, growling. I pulled my machete out of the sheath, scrambling to stand next to Sam who'd done the same. 

"Boys! Run!" John yelled. I ignored the fact that I had been neglected in his warning and took off with Sam and Dean, vampires on our tail. 

"Dad!" Dean yelled, pushing the doors open, letting sunlight fill the barn. We all stopped for a fraction of a second, just enough time to sheath our machetes, before we took off for the cars, and we didn't stop until we reached them.

"Dad?" Dean yelled, not seeing John behind us. "_Dad_?" He yelled again.

This time John came jogging out of the woods. "They won't follow, they'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent, it's for life."

"What do we do now?" Dean asked.

"You gotta find the nearest funeral home." John said simply. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, looking to Sam or Dean for an explanation they obviously didn't have.


	31. Chapter 31

**Second update today!**

**Sorry, this is sorta just a short little filler-ish chapter, but there'll be some action in the next chapter!**

**Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to leave a review! :)**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

I rode back to the motel with Sam and Dean, listening to them talk quietly.

I sighed heavily, resting my head on back of the seat as I stared at the ceiling of the car. "Something's gonna go wrong."

"And how do you know that?" Dean asked, his tone condescending an teasing.

"Woman's intuition." I said.

"No such thing," Dean shot back.

"Fine, witches intuition," I yawned. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to stay awake.

"Hey Nikki? When was the last time you slept?" Sam asked me a few minutes later.

I shrugged. "What day is it?"

"Friday," Sam answered slowly, like he was dreading the answer.

"Oh. So last time I slept was, like, 48 hours ago." I answered groggily.

"You need to get some sleep Nik," Dean told me, like a parent telling a toddler what to do.

"No I don't, when I hit the wall I'll just pop a pennyroyal blossom. That stuff is like speed's older brother on steroids," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest as I rested my head on the glass of the window, letting the warm rays of the sun shine on my face.

"Oh really?" I heard Sam chuckle. "And, how long does the effect of..._pennyroyal blossoms_, last?"

I shrugged. "'bout 12 hours..." I mumbled, my eyelids getting heavy.

I felt myself being gently dropped onto something soft. I let out a content sigh as I pressed my face into a soft, musty smelling thing. I shivered a little, where ever I had been before was warmer than where I was now. Another content sigh escaped my lips as a blanket was tossed over my shoulders.

_SLAM!_

"_Whoo_!"

The two loud noises made me jerk awake and in a scramble to get my surroundings. My legs got tangled in a blanket, making me fall of the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

"Ow." I moaned, sitting up, seeing Sam laughing from his spot at the table, eyes shut, head back, arms crossed over his stomach, and Dean leaning on the closed door as he laughed. Even John chuckled a few times, shaking his head.

"Wow...Such _gentlemen_," I mumbled, getting up from the floor.

"Do you know what kind'a heavy security they have just to watch some dead guys?" Dean asked, walking to the table.

"Did you get it?" John asked. Dean wordlessly pulled a paper bag from the pocket of his leather coat, and a glass bottle full of red liquid from the bag. John smiled slightly as he took it from Dean.

"You know what to do" He said simply.

"Quick question," I piped up, turning away from the mirror I was looking in, trying to fix my hair. "Am I going to be a part of this plan or am I going to have to sneak myself into it again?"

"You're staying here." Sam stated, looking at me with his puppy dog eyes. It was hard to argue with those, but I wasn't going to be stuck here.

"No, I'm not." I challenged him, combing my hair back with my fingers.

"Yes, you are," Dean snapped. "No argument. Sit your ass down." He snapped before going out the door.

I frowned, and glared at Sam, who had his jaw clenched. "You're not going."

"Give me one good reason why not." I said, undoing my braid and combing out my fingers more.

"Ok, you're inexperienced," he said simply.

"Bull," I said in a sing-song tone as I stood in front of the mirror, re-braiding my hair.

"Nikki," Sam said seriously. "This is dangerous, you could get hurt-"

"Yeah, I know, doesn't mean I don't want to help." I said, turning around from the mirror as I tied the elastic hair tie around the end of my braid. John was watching me like I was some new type of animal he was studying, and Sam looked frustrated.

"Face it, you're stuck with me." I said, sitting on the edge of the bed with a sad excuse of a grin on my face.


	32. Chapter 32

Nikki POV

"I'm not kidding, I have great aim," I said, following Dean as he went from the back of his dad's truck, to the hatch in the Impala.

"Ok, you listen to me," Dean said, slamming the trunk shut. "Maybe we couldn't keep you at the motel, but you _will_ stay in the car, even if we have to handcuff you to the damn door handle!"

"Oh, harsh," I said, dramatically placing my hand over my heart. Dean just rolled his eyes and walked away.

I frowned and sat on the trunk of the Impala, pulling my feet up onto the bumper and crossing my arms over my knees. How in the hell was I going to convince them that I could actually help them.

"God...I feel so _useless_!" I groaned, letting my head loll backwards.

"You said you're a good shot?" I heard Dean say, making me look up. Dean had the Civil War rifle in his hands, the one I gave him. Sam was a few hundred yards away, spray painting a target on a tree. "Prove it."

"Gimmie," I said, holding my hands out for the gun. It wasn't _that_ different than the hunting rifles Jeremy had shown me, and Jane had some expertise in this area…

I ignored his explanation, him telling me how to hold the gun. He'd already loaded the bullet and pulled the pin and safety back, it was ready to fire. I didn't even bother waiting until Dean was done. I aimed and pulled the trigger.

"Shit!" Sam yelped as he jumped, throwing himself into the trunk of a large tree when he heard the shot. Both Sam and Dean looked from the tree, then me, in shock.

There was now a chipped, jagged hole in the tree, in the middle of the target.

I handed Dean the gun, an innocent look on my face. "I read in Jane's journal that she did a lot of target practice. She was good, _really _good. Guess it rubbed off on me." I shrugged.

"Ok..._Ok_ you can come with." Dean grumbled.

"But if we say run, you _run_," Sam called from the tree he was digging the bullet out with a knife.

"When?" I asked for the fifth time, my arm tired from holding the heavy rifle.

"Now." John finally answered me, sounding reluctant, probably because I was shooting them, not him or Sam.

The rifle wasn't like other hunting rifles, I'd been the only one of the four of us to actually hit what I was aiming for, much to Dean's disappointment. I aimed for a split second and hit the male vampire. I quickly loaded another bullet and fired again, hitting the chick vamp in the chest.

"Nice," Sam said approvingly as we jogged down the hill.

"Barely even stings." The girl snapped cockily, obviously lying.

"Give it time, sweetheart," John said. "That's not an ordinary bullet; it's got dead man's blood in it. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

Sam unsheathed his machete and made the male vampire, who was swaying on his feet kneel on the ground, blade and arm up, ready to decapitate him at his dad's command.

The female one collapsed.

"Load her up." John said to Dean, who had the unfortunate pleasure of catching her. "I'll take care of this one."

Dean threw the passed out vamp over his shoulder, I followed, pausing to wait for Sam. He glanced at me, then the vampire, then his father before walking next to me. I stiffened as I heard the wet, splattering sound of blood being dispersed. The feeling of disgust quickly faded away when Sam put a hand on the small of my back, pushing slightly to make me walk faster, but comforting as well.


	33. Chapter 33

Nikki POV

"Here." I said, tossing John the jar of feverfew. "Toss a few in the fire and maybe force feed our little prisoner a few, you might wanna take another one too, only one though. Take too many you'll pass out. It'll work better than anything else you burn." 

John didn't say anything, but took the jar from my hands. Dean had been next to him the whole time, so when his dad handed him the jar, he nodded and unscrewed the lid on the jar. He reached in and grabbed a few of the dried blossoms and threw them in the fire. It crackled and sparked, letting off a bluish smoke. 

Dean made a face. "Stuff stinks," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Well, isn't that the idea?" I asked, shrugging. I pulled the plastic baggie with three more blossoms in it. "Catch it and pass it on," I said, throwing the bag at Sam after taking one of the blossoms for myself. I tossed back the bitter blossom with a swig of water. Once I got over the bitter taste, I started listening to the conversation.

"...mate for life. She means more to the leader then the gun. But the blood sickness is gonna wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time," John told Sam. "Half an hour tops."

"If we get some feverfew in her if might get us a little more time. It won't know her out or anything, but she'll be so out of it and loopy she won't be able to tell a human from a vampire." I said quickly, making John nod once, showing he understood.

"After, I want you out of the area as fast as you can. All of you." The last part was directed at me.

"But-" Sam started.

"You can't take care of them all yourself." Dean told his father.

"I'll have her, and the Colt." John said, glancing at the tied up vamp.

"But after, we're gonna meet up, right?" Sam asked, his voice was normal, but wavered a bit. "Use the gun together, right?" I saw John drop his son's gaze. I took a few steps back, leaning on the back of the Impala. I felt like I was barging in on a privet Winchester family moment.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Sam asked flatly, shaking his head, his face going from disbelieving to angry quickly. "Still want to go after the demon alone?"

"'ya know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this." Sam continued, while Dean clenched his jaw and stared at his boots. 

"Like what?" John asked lowly. 

"Like children." Sam snapped. 

"You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe-"

I looked away, biting my lip as I opened the back door of the Impala and got in, shutting the door behind me, muffling the voices outside. I cracked my neck a few times, trying to get rid of the stiff feeling.

After pulling out a flashlight, I opened up the grimoire I was on and read. I'm not sure how long I was reading before Sam and Dean got in, but neither looked very happy and didn't say a word. I shut off my flashlight and stuffed the book back in my backpack.

"Here." Dean said, tossing something back to me. I caught the sheathed machete and looped it through my belt loops again.

It was dead silent until we got the barn.

"We get in there, you stay behind me, got it?" Sam asked, standing close to me, his normally sweet, puppy dog eyes were intense and concerned. Unable to speak, I nodded. 

"Let's go." Dean said, pushing open the same doors we went through before. 

I hung back with Sam as Dean got the lone vampire in the barn. 

I rolled my eyes after Dean beheaded the vampire. "He can only take things seriously to a degree, can't he?" I asked quietly, laughing a bit. Sam's lips flickered into a brief smile before it disappeared, but his eyes weren't as sad and angry as before, which was a plus in my mind.

After helping Dean get the people out of the cage and calling the cops with an anonymous tip, we ran back to the Impala.

"Here," Dean said again, bringing the rifle from the trunk and dropping it next to me, Sam handed me the blood bullets.

"We're not leaving town, are we?" I asked, taking the rifle from him and putting a few bullets in my jacket pocket. 

"No, we're not." Sam answered, jaw clenched.

"Good." I said, loading the rifle.


	34. Chapter 34

Nikki POV

"You stay up here, go it?" Sam said, handing me the rifle. 

"Uh-huh," I nodded, looking up at Sam in the dim light. He was looking at me skeptically, disbelieving. I rolled my eyes. "Sam, I'll stay up here." I sighed.

"You better," Dean said, smacking my jacket pocket, making sure I had enough bullets I'm guessing.

"You two be careful, ok?" I asked weakly, making them both stop and look and me, then nod slowly. I took a deep breath and shook my head slightly. "Want me to shoot before or after you go down?" I asked, resting the gun on the large fallen tree I was crouched behind. It was to steady my aim, even though it was already pretty good, not to brag or anything, but the thing was _heavy_.

"Whenever you have a shot." Dean said. "Ready Sammy?" He asked his brother. 

"Yeah." Sam said, then they took off down the hill, machetes in hand. 

I waited a few seconds, then fired the gun. It went straight through the chest of the one in a cowboy hat, she fell flat on her face. I was felt a tinge of pride; I'd hit a quickly moving target square in the chest, with barely any time to aim. 

I quickly loaded another bullet and jumped over the log, running down the hill. I tripped, sliding down the hill slightly. When I stopped, still sitting in the ground, I raised the rifle again and fired. It hit one of the male ones in the chest. I lowered the gun with a smile threatening to break out on my face. I was high on an adrenaline. 

I reached into my pocket to pull another bullet out, and felt nothing. I looked down at my pocket, then around me. When I slid, the bullets must have fallen out. I frantically searched for the bullets in the dark, looking downhill whenever I could.

I froze, stopping my search when I saw Sam get knocked down, his machete fell out of his reach. The long haired vampire grabbed him in a choke hold. Dean got his own machete, ready to come at the vampire, but stopped. I felt myself shaking in fear; not for myself, for Sam. I threw the gun down and ran down the hill. 

I skidded to a stop behind John's truck, none of them noticed, they were too busy watching their leader choke the life out of Sam. I knelt down to see under the truck. John was unconscious. Damn. 

"John!" I hissed. Nothing. I took a shaky breath and held one of my hands out under the truck, palm towards John.

"_Vitam tibi trado_." I breathed. "_Vitam tibi trado. Vitam tibi trado. Vitam tibi trado_." I repeated the incantation over and over. It was supposed to bring someone out of unconsciousness. Technically, it's the counter-charm to a spell that _made_ someone unconscious. I didn't know if it'd work, but it was all I had.

I said it a few more times, but nothing happened.

I didn't really have a choice at this point. I reached my hand farther under the truck and grabbed the Colt. I sent a John another look. He was coming around, his eyes barely open. He looked at me, then the gun in my hand. To my great surprise, he nodded very slowly, barely a tip of the chin. I took a deep breath and stood up.

"Why can't you just leave us alone?" The vampire hissed. "We have as much right to live as you do." I needed him to turn around, otherwise I'd hit Sam. 

"That's not what I read." I said confidently. 

Like I knew he would, he turned abruptly and I pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him in the forehead, a round burn-like a circle crackling around it.

Sam got out of the choke hold, easily as the vampire swayed. I lowered the gun, still staring at the dying vampire. Blood trickled from his nose. 

"You..." He said, his eyes unfocused as he stared at me. "...You...Are here...Too _eradicate_ us..._All_ of us..." He said, his words slurred but clearly scared. "Filius Concupivi..." He muttered, before falling to his knees, still staring up at me. "Have...Have mercy..." He said, like he was begging. His mate, the girl, was screaming.

"Concupivi...Mercy..." The he flickered, like there was a light inside him going out. He fell forward, dead. 

Everyone stood still, staring at me, mostly. Dean looked at me, shocked. Sam had a similar expression. 

I looked away from Sam when I heard a breathy 'No.' I saw the girl vamp, the mate of the one I killed, look at me with bloodthirsty (no pun intended) eyes. I just stared back at her, not moving.

I too was shocked at myself to move.

Even when she lunged at me I didn't move. Sam did though, grabbing my arms as he pulled me back, stepping in front of me slightly.

"Kate! Kate, don't!" Another vamp said, grabbing her arm to hold her back. She yanked her back, away from me and towards one of the cars.

We all watched as the two remaining vampires drove away. 

"Nice shot." I heard John say. 

"_Dad_," Dean said, clearly concerned. I think he went to help John up, but I'm not sure, my eyes were glued to the dead vampire. 

"Nikki," I heard Sam say softly. "Nik?" He asked again, softer this time as he put a hand on my shoulder.

"Can-Can you take the gun?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. I cleared my throat after, but the clogged feeling in my throat didn't go away.

"Yeah," Sam said quickly, holding his hand out for it. When I didn't move, I felt one of Sam's large, warm hands pry my fingers off the Colt. "Are you ok?" 

"He-He knew me," I said, my brows furrowing. "The-The vampire, he-he _knew_ me."

"Nikki, you shot him in the head. I doubt he knew what he was saying." Sam said, moving his hand from resting on my shoulder that was next to him, to the other one, pulling me into a half hug. 

"Y-Yeah," I said, looking up and frowning as I saw blood on his cheek. "I-I didn't hit you, did I?"

"No, no I'm fine," he assured me, steering me towards the Impala as he used his sleeve to wipe the blood off his face. He kept his arm around me, and didn't object when I leaned into him, one of my hands curling into a fist around the bottom of his shirt.


	35. Chapter 35

Nikki POV

I'd never been so happy to be in a crappy motel room.

I ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me to take a long, hot shower. After I had unknotted my neck as well as I could, washing the grim out of my hair and sweat off my skin, I got out and wrapped myself in a towel. It was then that I realized that I didn't have my bag in the bathroom with me. I opened the door a crack, poking my head out.

Dean and John were nowhere to be found, Sam was intently looking at his laptop.

"Uh, Sam?" I asked, making him look up, his eyes widened and his cheeks blushed as he glanced away. He cleared his throat once before looking up at me again. "I-Uh, forgot my bag…Think you can grab it for me?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah, yeah sure," he said, quickly crossing the room to get my duffle bag. So quick in fact, he almost tripped over a discarded shirt of Dean's.

"Thanks." I said, realizing I'd have to open the door more to actually _get_ my bag. I bit the inside of my cheek as I opened the door, taking my bag from Sam's outstretched hand. He cleared his throat again, trying not to look me anywhere by my eyes as I stood in front of him in nothing but a towel that _just_ hit the middle of my thighs when it was barely tucked under my arms.

"Y-Yeah, uh, no-no problem," he said, stumbling over his words. I saw him try to keep eye contact, but after his gaze fell _again_, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it and turned around quickly. I shut the door and dropped my duffle bag on the closed toilet seat.

I got dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a soft long-sleeved shirt. My hair was still damp, making it look black instead of dark brown. I quickly braided it down my back, and when I looked in the mirror, I was surprised to see my eyes looked…_greener._ They had always been a hazel-ish color; a few flecks of green in light brown irises that resembled the color of the whisky Dean was constantly drinking. There were more green flecks now; making a small ring around my pupils.

I took a deep breath, telling myself it was just the weird motel light. I finished my braid and walked out of the bathroom. I sat on the edge of one of the beds, tugging on a hoodie and my Converse.

"So, if you kill the demon," I started slowly, playing with my shoelaces, unable to meet his eyes. "What are you gonna do then?" I asked, finally looking up at him.

"I wanted to go back to college, get my law degree." He said, not looking up from his laptop.

"Wanted? Past tense?" I asked, falling back to lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

"No...Well, yeah...I..." I heard him sigh heavily. "It's complicated." He said, closing his laptop before walking over to the bed I was sitting on.

I scooted over so Sam could sit on the other side of the bed; his weight on the bed would have made it dip so much my face would have slid into his thigh.

"_God_." I groaned, throwing my arms over my face as I realized what just happened. "Why can't I _turn it off_?" I moaned into my arms.

"Turn it off?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it's…it's like this _sixth sense_...I know what's gonna happen _literally_ half a second before it happens." I mumbled. I reached over and quickly pushed my backpack off the bed so Sam didn't land on it. I told him about the strange things, the orange, the chemicals in my dark room and most recently; shooting quickly moving vampires square in the chest.

"Huh," he said once I'd finished my story, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at me upside down.

I shrugged. "Most of the time I don't even notice it."

We sorta just laid there, staring at the ceiling. I looked at Sam only to see he was still staring at me with those eyes like kaleidoscopes of blues and hazels. Not that I minded, but it was a really intense, deep-in-thought stare. It made me a little uncomfortable.

"What?" I finally asked. He opened his mouth to speak, but the door was thrown open before he could.

"Sammy-!" Dean cut himself off after he saw us "You two want me to come back later?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes and sat up, Sam did the same.

Fifteen minutes later, both boys were packing up, well, tossing their clothes into bags. I was thumbing through one of my grimoires in a chair behind them, and jumped when I saw John at the door. _Damn_ he was quiet. I hugged my grimoire to my chest.

"So, boys..." John said, ignoring me as his sons turned towards him.

"Yes sir?"

"You ignored a direct order back there." John said simply, hands half-in his pockets. "You too, I'll bet." He said, glancing at me.

"Yes sir." Sam said, ignoring his father's comment about me.

"But we saved your ass." Dean added. Sam seemed uncomfortable under his father's intense looking gaze, he glanced away a few times, while Dean just stood there, staring back at John.

"You're right." John said a moment later.

"I am?" Dean asked doubtfully, surprised at his dad's words.

"It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But, I guess we are stronger as a family." He paused. "So...We go after this damn thing...together."

"Yes sir." The boy's coursed together.

I was still curled up in the chair, my grimoire up to my face, hiding the small smile I got when I saw Sam's mouth flicker in a smile as he looked at his dad, and Dean's face looked...less burdened.

I stayed silent as they stopped packing and started to plan their next move. Since I was still new to all of this so I stayed quiet as the Winchesters discussed how to find and kill the demon that basically ruined their lives. I felt like I was intruding on a family event.

I decided I should leave before I changed my mind. I waited until John left on a food run to pull on my jacket and zip up my duffle bag.

Sam was in the chair by the door, and looked up at me when I pulled my backpack on at the door. I guess Dean must have seen too, because I got a ball of wadded up paper tossed at my head. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked me.

"Uh…The bus station?" I said slowly. It came out almost like a question, but, that's what Dean's glare did to a person.

"Why?" Sam asked, sounding confused.

"Well, I thought…" I trailed off as I looked between Sam and Dean. "Do you want me to come with you, help find this thing?" I asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Sam said like it was an obvious thing. "Well, if-if you want too. You don't have too." He added quickly.

"Well, yeah I _want_ to come. But, I mean, won't I slow you guys down?" I asked, letting my backpack slide off my arms to the floor.

"No, no not at all," Sam assured me, shaking his head.

"You sure?" I asked again, looking at Dean this time.

"Yeah," Dean said, shrugging as he paged through John's journal.

"Ok," I sighed, tossing my duffle bag and backpack back onto the floor under the window. "This is your own faults, remember that." I said as I sat cross legged in the center of one of the beds.

"What is?" Sam asked, looking at me with confused eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

"You guys are _really_ stuck me now." I said, grinning.


	36. Chapter 36

Nikki POV

Three hours later, I was in exactly the same spot in the middle of the bed.

I had to say, it was amazing to see how they worked. I was learning things about demons a 900 page index didn't tell me. I'd gotten a notebook out an hour ago, scribbling a few things down.

I stayed pretty quiet, watching as the hunters conversed. I felt like a fourth wheel. I know technically four wheels is a _good_ thing, but it wasn't right. I felt like I was interfering with a family event again.

"I'm gonna go get something to drink," I mumbled, quickly leaving the motel room to walk down to the soda machine a few doors down. I put a few quarters in and pushed the button for a Sprite. I pulled the cold plastic bottle out of the cut out in the plastic. I crossed my arm over my chest to hold the cold bottle to my shoulder blade. I must have hit it or something when I slid down the hill.

I let out a high yelp when I turned around and saw John standing a few feet from me. "Jeez...Scared the crap out of me." I muttered, taking the bottle off my shoulder and unscrewed the cap.

"Salvation, Iowa." He said simply. "That's where the demon is." He clarified.

"Oh..." I said, pausing to nod and take a drink.

"Should I just go back to Janesville?" I blurted out.

John shrugged. "Up to you." He muttered, tossing his bag in his truck.

I quickly walked into the motel room, seeing Sam stuffing papers into a backpack, frustrated. I silently started to help him.

"Do you guys want me here?" I asked again, not sure if I wanted the answer.

Sam looked at me, almost insulted. "Of course we want you here." I felt my stomach clenched when I saw the look in his kaleidoscope puppy-dog eyes. He really meant it.

"So, Salvation?" I asked, hoisting my backpack over my shoulder.

"Yeah." Sam said, grabbing his bag as well as my own as he walked out of the motel.

I walked to the Impala with Sam and tossed my backpack in the backseat. I was just about to get in next to it when Dean looked over his shoulder and sent me a clear 'Wait' look.

"What?" I asked slowly, one foot in the car, my hands on the door.

"You like Metallica?" He asked, dead serious. Sam rolled his eyes and let his head loll back on the headrest, exasperated.

I shrugged. "More of a Boston fan, but no complaints." Sam laughed once, pressing his lips together to try and stop, while Dean grinned at me.

"Sam," he said, turning to look at his brother. "You may have competition for the front seat."

I giggled as I got in, listening to the two bicker about who got to ride shotgun; which I really didn't want. I settled into the seats, tossing my legs up on them, my back against the door and looked out the window as Dean drove away from the motel.


	37. Chapter 37

Nikki POV

I sat silently in the back of the Impala, flipping through my next grimoire with the demon index open in my lap. I'd found an exorcism in the grimoire, but I wasn't sure if it could handle something as big as _this_ demon. I was also comparing spells, incantations and potions from the grimoire to the index to see what they could take down. I was basically looking for anything that might help.

"Ok, you _gotta _say something," Dean said suddenly, making me look up. "You've barely said a damn word!"

I just shrugged. "I'm looking for anything about demons." I told him. I saw Sam staring at me in the passenger side mirror. I shrugged at him. "I don't wanna be dead weight to you guys."

"Ok, enough'a that!" Dean snapped. "You're not dead weight. If you were, we would'a put your ass on the first bus back to Pennsylvania!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Like you could make me get a bus." I mumbled, making Sam snicker, he quickly hide it with a cough.

Dean pulled off the main road, following his dad's truck onto the shoulder of the road. John got out quickly, Dean and Sam did the same. I opened my door and leaned on the car's frame, hanging back.

"Damn it!" John cursed as he slammed his door.

"What is it?" Dean asked quickly.

"Son of a bitch!" John cussed again, hitting the back fender of his truck.

"What is it?" Dean demanded again as he walked towards his father.

"I just got a call from Caleb." John said.

"Is he ok?" Dean asked; going from frustrated, to worried.

I sent Sam a questioning look. "Caleb's an old hunter friend." He mumbled to me under his breath. I nodded, understanding the situation better.

"He's fine," John said, seemingly brushing it off. "Jim Murphy's dead."

Both boys seemed shocked. "Pastor Jim?" Sam asked, as if it wouldn't be real unless he asked. John nodded. "How?" Sam asked, still shocked. I'm guessing Pastor Jim's another hunter friend.

"Throat was slashed." John said flatly. I gasped quietly. "He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"Sulfur...A demon." I thought out loud, making Sam and Dean look at me, John clenched his jaw and glared.

"_The_ demon?" Sam asked, understanding the look I got from him.

"Not sure." John said with a slight shoulder shrug. "Could be he just got careless. He slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do you want to do?" Dean asked, sounding like a soldier waiting for orders.

..._Soldier_...

"Now, we act like every second counts." John said. "There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up. We cover more ground. I want records; I want a list of every infant that's gonna be 6 months old in the next week."

"Dad that could be _dozens_ of kids." Sam said. "How the hell are we gonna know which ones the right one?"

"We'll check them all. That's how." John snapped at his son. "You got any better ideas?"

Sam glared at his father, then got back in the Impala, slamming the door. I got in too, shutting the door normally. I leaned forward, resting my chin on the space between the driver's and passenger's seats.

"Are you ok?" I asked, wondering if I _should_ ask. Sam nodded, staring at his lap. He looked up and I sat back when Dean got in and slammed his foot on the gas.

"You two got the Salvation Iowa Medical Center," Dean said as we drove. I nodded, shoving the grimoire into my backpack.

"You guys think you can figure out a ride back?" Dean asked as we got out of the Impala in front of the Medical center. I looked at Sam, who nodded.

I walked into the medical center next to Sam, my backpack slung over my shoulder like Sam.

"I'm gonna let you talk," I sighed as I pushed the door open.

Sam chuckled, but nodded. "_Ok_." I gave him an annoyed look that made him laugh more. "You know, your nose scrunches up when you do that." He told me.

"What? No ti doesn't!" I challenged, pausing to look in the reflection of the second set of glass doors into the medical building and made the same face I'd just given him. "Huh, never noticed that."

"It does that when you laugh, too," he pointed out as we walked up to the desk. I looked at him annoyed, then quickly looked away, making him laugh again.

"Why'd you have to point that out?" I snapped before he went to talk (lie) to the receptionist, still chuckling.


	38. Chapter 38

Nikki POV

A little over an hour later we walked out of the medical center. I was flipping through my leather-bound notebook. The whole experience was a little nostalgic to me. Sam had taken the newborn records, I took the adoption ones. I tried not to find parallels between me and any of the kids I found, but I couldn't help it. I tried to force myself no to think about it as I sighed at the 14 names in my notebook.

"This...This is a lot..." I sighed, flipping the page. "Hey, should we-Sam?" I broke my question off when I saw that Sam wasn't next to me.

He was a few steps behind me, eyes pinched shut as he rubbed his forehead. "Sam? You ok?" I asked, walking back to his side. He didn't change his pinched, in pain expression, but he nodded.

"Liar," I mumbled, gently putting a hand on his arm. When I did, I gasped, yanking my hand off his arm. I stared at my palm, expecting to see a burn. When I'd touched him, it felt like I was touching a hot iron. Thankfully, Sam didn't notice. I stood next to him, worried. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.

He opened his eyes a second later, gasping for air like he'd been holding his breath. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, but then stumbled back a few feet as he pinched his eyes shut again, hands pressed to his temples.

"Sam!" I said, a little louder, taking his arm again, wincing when I touched him. I tried to ignore it, but when I got on my tiptoes to gently grab his hand, trying to pry it from his head, I had to drop it. It hurt too much.

When he finally seemed to snap out of it, he was gasping for air again, more than before. He kept his hands at his temples, eyes open and brows furrowed.

"Sam?" I asked hesitantly. He looked at me like he forgot I was there. "Sam?" I asked again when he didn't say anything.

He looked at me and blinked a few times. "A train." He blurted out, like he'd come to some epiphany.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Trains. Train tracks, a station _something_." He said, starting to dig through his own backpack. "I need a map." He muttered.

I unzipped the first pocket of my backpack and held a county map out to him, I'd grabbed it when Sam was talking to the receptionist. He grabbed it and started to frantically search the page. He must have found what he was looking for, because he grabbed my wrist and started to pull me towards a park across the street.

"C'mon," he said, although it was a bit redundant. I just followed him, happy that it didn't burn to have his large, warm hand wrapped around my wrist, which seemed so small in his grasp.

"Where are we going, exactly?" I asked, jogging to keep up with his long, quick strides. He dropped my wrist and slowed to look at the map again.

"It was a house, I could hear the train whistle, it's gonna be by train tracks," he said, stopping at a corner, before breaking into a jog down a different side of the park.

"What? When did you hear a train whistle?" I asked, running to keep up with him, I skidded to a stop when he paused to look at the map again. His backpack was sliding down his arm, and his jacket was flipped back, sliding down his other arm.

He stumbled to the left, one hand rubbing his forehead as he swayed. He pinched his eyes shut and let out a low, painful groan as his other hand, still holding the map, moved to hold his other temple.

I suddenly grabbed his arm, ignoring the burning in my hands and gave a hard shove towards a bench just as his knees wobbled. It was a good thing I did too, if I didn't, all six foot four of him would have tried to lean on me for support and five foot seven me would have ended up on the ground under six foot four him. I think I would have broken a rib.

It wasn't until Sam snapped out of his trance that I realized I'd used my little magic side effect. He was taking deep, gasping breaths again, and looking around slightly confused. "Why am I on a bench?" He asked randomly.

"Sam, what's going on?" I demanded, giving him my best glare.

He blinked once, his face blank. "I-I'll explain later, we gotta find them." He mumbled, fixing his jacket as he got up. I stayed on the bench, crossing my arms.

"What are you going?" He asked, his voice anxious and confused.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me _what's going on_." I said, not really angry at him. I just wanted to know what was going on.

Sam sighed and sat next to me. "I'll explain it all later, ok?" I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. "I promise." He added.

"Promise?" I repeated. He looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, eyebrows pulled together and up in the center as he nodded.

"Well, lead the way," I sighed, standing back up.


	39. Chapter 39

Nikki POV

"_Well, lead the way," I sighed, standing back up. _

Sam wasn't in such a hurry this time, he walked at a normal pace, pulling his backpack up his shoulder and fixing his jacket against the light rain. About five minutes later, we walked out of the park, and Sam stopped on the sidewalk.

"What?" I asked, getting on my tiptoes to follow his gaze.

"The-Uh-The window, on the white house," Sam mumbled, not really paying attention. "The kid's room."

I saw a young brunette woman carrying an umbrella and pushing a stroller walking up the driveway. "What about her?" I asked, nodding towards her.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled, putting a hand on the small of my back, pushing me across the street. "Just-Just play along." He said in my ear.

"Hi," Sam said, keeping his arm on my waist, smiling at the woman who was struggling to keep a hold on the stroller, holding an adorable baby girl, and close her umbrella.

"Here, uh, let me hold that for you." He said, giving my waist a squeeze before holding the edge of the stroller for the woman. Even through my jacket and thermal shirt, my skin felt hot and tingly where Sam's fingers had pressed into my side when he'd given my hips a squeeze.

"Thank you," the woman said, smiling at us.

"She's gorgeous." I said, leaning down slightly to see the baby girl in the stroller. "She yours?" I asked, glancing up.

"Yeah," the woman said proudly.

"Wow...Hi," Sam said, trying awkwardly to baby-talk. I lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Rude," I muttered, making him chuckle and the proud mom smile.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I'm Sam, this is Nikki," he said, affectionately nudging me. "We just moved in up the block."

"Oh," she said happily. "Hey, I'm Monica." She said, smiling. "And this is Rosie," she added, looking down at the baby girl.

"Rosie," Sam repeated, smiling down at the baby.

"Hi Rosie," I said, leaning down again, internally sad that I had to break out of Sam's warm, strong grip.

"So, welcome to the neighborhood," Monica said, smiling at us.

"Thank you," Sam said politely.

"So, first place?" Monica asked us.

"Huh?" I asked, looking up from the innocent baby that a demon was going to come for.

"You two, your first place?" She asked me, my eyes widened a bit, but Sam just nodded, obviously not paying attention.

"Uh, y-yeah," I lied, going with what Sam had already confirmed.

"Just got married?" She guessed, my eyes widened more.

"Uh-" Sam said, realizing where the conversation had gone.

"Yeah, four months," I jumped in, saving Monica from the stuttering of Sam. "Saw the house last week and thought it was the _perfect_ first place, right sweetie?" I asked, glancing up at Sam, batting my eyelashes.

"Yeah," Sam instantly agreed. "Babe," he added, like an afterthought. It sounded so awkward when he said it, but it still did still made my stomach do backflips.

Monica smiled at us. "I've been married for a little over a year." She said, still smiling.

"She's such a good baby," he pointed out, glancing at Rosie, who was tugging on the pink fleece hood pulled over her head covered in wispy brown hairs. I sighed in relief when the conversation shifted from us, back to the baby.

"Yeah," Monica said in agreement, beaming. "I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you, and I swear it's-" She paused, thinking. "It's like she's reading your mind."

I smiled. I'd seen a lot of new parents like her, proud to the point of exaggeration of their kid. My smile changed from happy to forced, briefly thinking about how I was never the kid parents were beaming about.

"So, have you lived here long?" I asked, realizing neither Sam nor Monica had spoken.

"My husband and I bought our place just before Rosie was born." She said, looking happily at her white house. It was the epitome of normal, all that was missing was the picket fence.

"How old is Rosie?" Sam asked.

Please don't say six months. Please don't say six months. Please don't say-

"Six months today," she said proudly. "That's big, right?" She asked, excited. "She's already growing like a weed."

I tried to smile like she was, but it just wasn't coming. "Yeah," I got out, nodding in agreement. I felt Sam grabbing the material of my jacket at the small of my back in a fist. I had a hand on my backpack strap, which was now white knuckle.

"I-Uh-I bet it's hard to believe she's already six months old," I said, trying not to sound panicked.

"You have no idea," Monica said, lovingly stroking a few feathery hairs out of Rosie's eyes. She must have seen me looking at her in envy. Not because I wanted a kid, but because I never had _that_; someone who brushed hair out of my eyes.

"Are you two planning a family yet?" She asked, going off my gaze. Sam seemed to choke on air, but covered it with a cough, while I just stared at her, wide eyed.

"Uh...W-Well," I started, unsure of what to say. I glanced at Sam, who was stuttering as much as I am.

"Sorry," Monica said suddenly, eyes wide in embarrassment. "That's a pretty personal question to ask newlyweds you just met." She laughed awkwardly.

"Uh, Monica?" Sam asked, getting over the baby-making question quicker than me. She looked at Sam expectantly, but he didn't say anything else. "Uh, just...Just take care of yourself, ok?" He asked, trying to smile.

"Yeah, you too Sam," Monica said, missing his tone entirely. "And Nikki, I'm _so_ happy there's another wife on this block under forty-We _have_ to do lunch sometime." She said, smiling.

"We'll see you 'round," she said, leaning down to gently take Rosie's arm, making her wave at us. I gave Rosie my best 'little kid' face and waved back.

As me and Sam walked back across the street, I heard Monica tell Rosie that 'daddy' was home. I looked over my shoulder and say a red van pull into the driveway, and a man get out to kiss Monica on the cheek.

I didn't notice until he let out a pained groan, but Sam had his eyes pinched shut again, one hand holding his forehead. "Sam?" I asked, reaching out to touch his arm, but hesitated. It burned last time I touched him when he was like this. I just waited until he opened his eyes again, looking up at him with concerned eyes.

"Hey," I said softly, lightly touching his arm, trying to get him to look at me. It didn't hurt, which was good.

"Hey, Sam," I said again, a little louder. He looked at me, his brow still furrowed in pain. "How about we go to the motel?" I prompted softly.

He nodded, looking at the sidewalk before he put an arm around my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze. "Yeah." He said, dropping his arm quickly. "Yeah, let's-let's do that."


	40. Chapter 40

Nikki POV

"A _vision_?" John asked. 

He and Dean where each sitting on one of the beds in the motel. Sam was at the table, holding and rubbing his forehead. I set a glass of water in front of him, trying to think of something to say or do to help the situation. Nothing came to me, probably because I was too shocked.

"Yes, a vision," Sam said shortly. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because...?" John trailed off, his tone a mix of condescension and skepticism. 

"Because things happen exactly the way I see them." Sam snapped, frustrated. 

"It started out with nightmares," Dean put in, getting up from his seat. "Then he started having them when he was awake."

"Yeah," Sam muttered in agreement, letting his arms drop on the table top. "It's like-I-I don't even know. It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get." 

I was shocked. I was expecting something that wasn't exactly normal, but this...I was stunned. I hopped up onto the small counter next to the sink and pulled the basic index of magic from my backpack and started to page through it.

"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this?" John asked, his voice raising as he glared at Sam and Dean, both of whom looked at him like he had gone slightly insane. 

"We didn't know what it meant." Dean defended.

"Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me." John snapped again. Sam shook his head at the statement, rubbing his forehead in pain again. Dean just slammed his glass down. 

"Call you?" Dean repeated, walking back to their dad. "Are you kidding me?" He paused, waiting to see if John would say anything. 

"Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam called you when I was _dying_. Getting you on the phone-I got a better chance of winning the lottery!" I tried my best not to look up from the book, but I wanted too. I had to force myself not to.

"You're right." John said finally. "Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, your right." 

I almost smiled at that. _This new tone of yours_. It wasn't a new tone at all. I just doubt his father had heard it before. 

"Look, guys, visions or no visions, the fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. This family's gonna go through the same hell we went through." Sam jumped in, trying to stop an argument before it started.

"No, they're not." John said firmly. "No one is...ever again."

I almost fell off the counter when someone's phone rang. Dean snickered as I scrambled to stay on the counter. I glared at him, smacking his shoulder with the index while Sam answered his phone.

"Hello?" He asked, still rubbing his forehead. His hand dropped suddenly, his face going from indifferent and in pain, to suspicious. "Who is this?" 

A moment later, his face went suspicious, to pissed off. "Meg." He all but growled. John got up from the bed, and Dean stiffened.

"Who-Who's Meg?" I asked Dean quietly. 

"A demon bitch." He said darkly. "She was the one who unleashed the Deava in Chicago." I nodded, suddenly intimidated by a person I've never met. You had to be into some really dark, advanced magic to summon something like that. 

"Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window." Sam spat into the phone. "Just your feelings?" He snapped. "That was a seven story drop."

Sam looked at his dad, phone still to his ear. "My dad? I don't know where my dad is." Sam lied, before John could take the phone. A moment later, Sam, looking defeated, handed the phone to John. 

"This is John." He said gruffly. He walked to the other side of the motel room, his head dropping slightly. "I'm here." He answered into the phone.

"Caleb?" John asked suddenly. Both Sam and Dean looked at their dad. I guess they recognized the name. "Caleb, you listen to me-He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go...I don't know what you're talking about...Caleb." John said painfully. "Caleb!" He said again, more urgent. 

"I'm gonna kill you. You know that?" John snapped into the phone. Suddenly, he looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

"Ok," he said, defeated a moment later. "I said ok." He snapped. "I'll bring you the Colt." I dropped the book, looking at John in shock, as did Sam and Dean.

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there...That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I just can't carry a gun on a plane." He shot me a look again, he held my gaze this time. I was confused, _really_ confused. He looked..._concerned._

He hung up, and looked up at his boys briefly before starting to pack his things.

"So, Meg's a demon?" I asked, still on the counter, the magic index in my lap. 

"Either that or she's possessed by one." John said. I shivered at the word 'possessed'. "It doesn't really matter." 

"What do we do?" Dean asked, like a soldier again.

"I'm going to Lincoln." He stated plainly.

"What?" Dean asked, like the idea of his father going alone was insane, which it was.

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die...She's next on the list." He said, nodding towards me. My eyes went wide and it was like a golf ball was shoved down my throat, stopping me from breathing.

"How would Meg even know about Nikki?" Sam asked, more concerned now.

"I don't know," John said, sending me a look. "I was just going to her that myself."

"I-I didn't tell anyone," I said quietly, my mind working a hundred miles an hour trying to figure it out. 

"What about Sam's visions?" John brought up, making me look up from the spot I'd been staring at on the floor, to John's accusing gaze. 

"What?" I asked, confused.

"When exactly did they start, Sam?" John asked his confused son.

"Dad, they started _way_ before me and Dean met-" Sam started to defend me.

"You think it was by _chance_ that you met a witch like her?" John said, his voice raising. 

"Dad, she's not-" John cut Dean off.

"This is exactly why I was gonna kill her back in Manning." John snapped, he seemed to take a moment to calm himself before he spoke again. "If Meg knows _she's_ with us, she could know where we are. Now, I'm going to Lincoln, but _she_ has to go back to wherever the hell she came from."

"Hey!" I snapped, getting off the counter. "This is _not_ my fault! If Meg found out I was here, with you guys, it wasn't 'cause I'm working with her, or told her, or she's using some cheap parlor trick to track me! I am more powerful that she can _imagine_! I'm _hidden_ by design. _So this is not my fault_."

Ok, maybe that was a _bit _too far. 

"And as for the killing me thing," I added, putting a hand on my cocked hip as I looked at him. "I can take care of myself." Me and John just stared at each other; I was waiting for him to blink, I don't know what he was waiting for.

"What about the demon?" Dean asked, putting a hand on my shoulder, forcing me into a chair.

"That demon is going to come after Monica and her family, _tonight_." Sam stated, irritated either that John suggested that I was going green on them, or that he was going to take the Colt when they had a chance to kill the demon. "That gun is all we got. We can't just hand it over." 

Ok. He's more upset about the gun than me. Good to know. 

"Who said anything about handing it over?" John asked. "Look, besides us and a couple of vampires, no one's seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"You're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean asked, almost amused at the idea. 

John shrugged. "Antique store." He corrected.

"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" Dean asked.

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference." John reasoned.

"Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?" 

"I just-I just need to buy a few hours, that's all." John sighed. 

"You mean for Dean and me," Sam realized. "You want us to stay here and kill the demon by ourselves." 

"No Sam." John said harshly. "I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home...I want Mary alive." I looked down at my lap, trying to tune out the Winchester family moment I was in the middle of.

"I just want this to be over." John admitted.


	41. Chapter 41

**So, this is a little short and fluffy…  
****But, here you go!**

Nikki POV

"_God_," Sam moaned about half an hour later. He was at the table, elbows on the table, head resting in his hands.

"You ok?" I asked from my spot on one of the beds. I was sitting cross legged in the center of the bed, index in my lap. Dean and John had gone to try and find a gun that looked enough like the Colt to fool Meg.

"It's just...My head..." He mumbled, eyes pinched shut in pain.

"You want me to get you something for it?" I asked, closing my book.

"I've tried everything over the counter, nothing helps." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. My gaze flickered to the herb and potion book sticking out of my backpack.

"You want something _not_ over the counter?" I asked.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked as he leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, I tried this a few weeks ago. Tastes pretty bad, but got rid of the pain in less than half an hour." I said, dropping camphor into the pot of boiling water. I'd asked the person in the motel office for a hotplate and a pot, and once the water was boiling, I started adding the various herbs and the _other ingredients_ listed in the book.

"How bad is 'pretty bad'?" He asked skeptically.

"...Really bad," I mumbled, sprinkling fennel leaves into the now brown, thick liquid. The leaves made the concoction give off thick, large bubbles. Sam's face contorted into one of distaste and what looked like what I imagined his 'fear' face looked like.

"What's in it?" He asked, looking cautiously at the pot.

I paused before dropping in a little bit of powdered barley and slowly looked up. "You...You _really_ don't want to know." I mumbled, sprinkling the green powder into the pot, making it turn a darker brown.

I added a few more herbs, then poured it into a coffee mug. "You have to drink it when it's hot." I said, handing him the mug. He hesitated, then raised it to his face.

He immediately turned his face away and held the mug at arm's length. "_God_ that smells disgusting." He said, his nose wrinkled. "How much do I have to drink?"

"What I gave you is the least amount you can ingest and still feel the effects. It'll only last about ten hours. If you take twice that it can last up to 48."

Sam took a deep breath, closed his eyes and raised the mug to his lips to take a drink. I saw his eyes open wide, and saw him slam the mug onto the counter as he spat and gagged into the sink. "You think that's _pretty bad_?" He asked, head in the sink. He had his forearms on the edges of the basin, his eyes pinched shut in pain.

I shrugged. "How bad do you want the pain to go away?" I asked him.

He opened his eyes, looking at me from under his braced arms. Sam's eyebrows pulled together as he stood back up, taking the mug again. He took a deep breath, pinched his nose shut with one hand and held the mug to his face with the other. Since his head was thrown back, I could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed quickly.

"Hey, you guys-" I heard Dean say from the door. He stopped as he saw his brother with a pained look on his face, nose pinched shut, quickly drinking from a grimy coffee mug. He just raised an eyebrow at me.

When Sam finished the potion, he threw the mug on the counter, somewhat out of breath from pinching his nose shut and stuck his head in the sink, turning on the faucet to take greedy gulps of water.

"I don't know what to say," Dean finally said, shutting the door behind him as he walked into the motel room. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked his brother.

"That was the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted." Sam moaned, still bent over the sink.

"What'd you drink?" Dean asked, curiously picking up the mug. He raised it to his face and gave it a sniff. His face quickly turned into one of disgust as he held the mug at arm's length.

"Cephalalgia," I said shyly. "It's-It's a Wiccan remedy for severe headaches."

Dean just stared at me, then narrowed his eyes. "What are the side effects?" He demanded, just like I thought he would, as he threw the mug (permanently stained brown on the inside) in the trash.

"Nothing! Nothing, I _swear_. He may be a little sleepy for the next hour or so, but then Sam'll be fine." I assured him.

"No, _Sam _will **not** _be_ _fine_," Sam moaned from the sink. "That taste _doesn't go away_!"

"Ok, fine, he'll be a little tired and have a bad taste in his mouth for a few hours." I corrected myself, shrugging. Dean seemed to think about it for a second before shrugging and grabbing a beer.


	42. Chapter 42

**Here's the next chapter! **

**Thank you **PoorlyThoughtOutPlan **for the review! Made my day! As do all of the reviews I get! :)**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

I was sitting in the back of the Impala, legs up on the seats and a grimoire in my lap. I was staring intently at an empty cup on the floor, trying to make it fly at the back of Dean's head.

It didn't move.

Damnit.

"Maybe we can tell them there's a gas leak." Sam said from the front seat. "Get them out of the house for a few hours."

"Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?" Dean asked him, his tone a little bit condescending. From that, I guess it _never_ worked for them.

"We could always tell them the truth," Sam offered, making Dean look at him oddly. I did too. If they walked up to that house and told them a demon was after them, they'd probably mention my little secret and tell me to show them. And since I couldn't actually _do_ anything, we'd crash and burn.

"Nah," he finally said, turning his head back to the house.

"I know," Sam sighed. "I know, I know. I just...With what's coming for these people..."

"Sam, we only got one move, and you know it, all right?" Dean said, leaving no room for argument. "We gotta wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them."

I didn't like that that was our only option.

Give me six months and I could exorcise any demon just by wrapping a rosary around its neck and saying 'Christo.' Now, all I had was a basic exorcism spell to offer and a bipolar levitation ability.

"I wonder how dad's doing." Sam said offhandedly.

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up." Dean muttered.

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up," Sam said, glancing at his brother.

"Hey, would one of you put this on the dash?" I asked, leaning forward to hand them an empty bottle from my herb bag.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"'cause I wanna see if I'm not giving myself a headache and bloody nose if I can make that move." I said, still holding the bottle out. Sam sighed and grabbed the bottle, putting in on the dash.

I crossed my arms over the back of the seats between Sam and Dean, my eyes fixed on the bottle.

_C'mon. Move. _

_Move you stupid bottle!_

_Levo a et. Levo a et. Levo a et. Levo a et. Levo a et. _

"Are you ok?" Dean asked me after I let out a frustrated huff.

"I'm frustrated," I mumbled, still trying to get the friggin' bottle to move.

Dean called John a few minutes later, I didn't really hear what happened, I was focusing on the bottle. I thought I was going to get a nosebleed. That'd happened a few times when I tried too hard for too long.

"_Damnit_!" Dean said suddenly, startling me.

The sudden noise sent a jolt through me. Next thing I knew, the glass bottle was flying back towards me, hitting me in the right eye.

"_Ow_!" I yelped, falling back and holding my eye as Sam and Dean sat still, unsure of what happened.

At almost the same time, they started laughing. _Really_ laughing, like, heads tipped back, eyes shut, stomachs held laughing.

"Oh ha ha ha," I snapped, uncovering my eye to give it a few wide blinks and look at it in the rear view mirror. "Once I get the hang of this, I'm gonna make your lives _hell_ for that." I snapped, using my sleeve to wipe away some of the tears my one watery eye had let slide.

The laughter slowed in a few minutes and we lapsed into silence. The radio started to crackle and became full of static. "Hey, you guys hear that?" I asked, leaning forward again.

Sam seemed to pause for a minute, then turn the crackly radio up. The wind started to blow in strong gusts, and the lights in Monica's house flickered. I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me; these are the big signs of demonic activity that Jeremy told me about.

"It's coming." Sam started, his own voice a little fearful. He and Dean got out quickly, slamming the doors shut. I followed them.

"Oh hell no!" Dean practically growled once he saw me get out. "Get your ass back in the car!" he said, half-yelling over the wind.

"No way! I'm coming with you guys!" I half-yelled back at him, pushing a few strands of hair that escaped from my braid out of my face.

"Nikki-!" Sam started, then cut himself off and grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer so he didn't have to talk over the wind. "You stay behind me, got that?" He ordered. I just nodded, running with them to the house.

Dean shoved his shoulder against the door, forcing it open. I stayed behind Sam like I promised. I felt him hand me something, a knife. A big knife.

"Think you can handle that?" Dean asked. Normally I would have said something sarcastic about his choice of words, but I didn't. Not the time. I just nodded, putting it through my belt loop. I was reciting an exorcism spell in my head, trying to memorize it.

"Get out of my house!" Monica's husband yelled, swinging a bat at Sam, who swiftly got out of the way, letting a lamp take the hit. He swung at Dean, who grabbed the bat, and pushed the guy against a wall.

"Mr. Holt, please!" Sam said loudly, trying to get his attention.

"We're trying to help you, ok?" Dean snapped.

"Charlie? Is everything ok down there?" I heard Monica call from upstairs.

"Monica! Get the baby!" Mr. Holt, Charlie, yelled back.

"No! Don't go in the nursery!" Sam yelled, the deep tone of his yell seemed to bounce off the walls and funnel up the stairs. While Sam was yelling, I ignored the idea of staying behind him and ran up the stairs myself.

"Stay away from her!" Charlie yelled from downstairs.

"What are you-" I heard Monica start to say from the back of the house, a loud slam followed, a scream after that. Sam had to slow down a little to get the Colt, but I kept running. I skidded to a stop when I got into the nursery, pulling the knife out.

I saw Monica on the wall, pinned to the wall by an invisible force that was slowly pushing her up to the ceiling. It seemed like the figure standing over the crib was focusing on Monica, but once I got in the room, he turned towards me. Monica stopped sliding up the wall and the door slammed shut behind me.

I was suddenly being pulled forward by my throat, cutting off my ability to breathe. I stopped about a foot from the black figure, choking and gasping for air. I had my hand out to my side, trying to levitate the knife into my hand. My head was pounding within seconds due to lack of air.

The demon's head tilted down, his eyes hitting a beam of light from the nightlight on the wall, showing swirling yellow irises.

"Hmmm." I heard it, him, say lowly. "Well, aren't _you_ a surprise…" He trailed off, his voice was low, and somewhere between thoughtful and curious.

I think that scared me more than not being able to breathe.

I felt something trickle over my lips. My tough poked out instinctively, and I tasted the sharp metallic taste of blood. My nose was bleeding.

That's when Sam kicked the door in.

If I thought he looked angry when he kicked the door in, he was furious when he said me being held up by my neck, limp and choking from air and blood covering my lips. He raised the Colt and fired. The demon dissipated.

Monica fell from the wall with a scream and I fell face first on the carpet, taking in deep lungful's of air. I used my sleeve to wipe the blood from my face.

"Where the hell did it go?" Sam asked, staring at the round hole he'd put in the wall.

"My baby!" Monica cried, trying to get up from where she fell to the floor.

Ignoring the burning in my lungs and the crushed feeling in my throat, I got up and saw Rosie constantly tugging at her blankets in her crib.

"Nikki-Are you ok?" Sam asked me seriously, grabbing my shoulders in his hands, the Colt still in one, and bending down to look at me.

I tried to tell him yes, but my throat hurt so bad I couldn't speak. I just nodded and grabbed Rosie.

"Sam!" Dean yelled from the hall.

"Make sure they get out!" Sam yelled back, taking Monica by the shoulders and quickly leading her out of the nursery. I held Rosie and the blanket she was playing with tightly, as Dean and I ran downstairs.

Monica was screaming for Rosie.

Flames were engulfing the nursery, then the second floor.

The nursery window exploded as I got out of the house.

Charlie, who had been knocked out by Dean, had woken up. He ran towards us, yelling "Stay away from my family!"

"No! Charlie, don't! They saved us." Monica panted, putting a calming hand on her husband's arm. "They-They saved us." Monica repeated weakly, reaching for Rosie, who I quickly set in her mom's arms.

Charlie protectively wrapped his arms around Monica and gave Rosie a kiss on the head. "Thank you." Monica said honestly. I just gave a weak smile and nodded towards her.

"It's still in there." Sam said. I spun around and followed his gaze to the nursery window, where a dark figure was standing.

"Sam _no_!" Dean cried as he grabbed his brother, trying to stop him from running back into the house.

"Dean let me go! It's still in there!" Sam yelled, trying to force his way out of his brother's grasp.

"Burning to the ground-It's suicide!" Dean added on harshly to Sam's sentence.

"I don't care!" Sam yelled.

"I do!" Dean yelled back, letting Sam go, pushing him back slightly.

All of us just stood on the lawn, staring up at the figure in the burning window before it disappeared.


	43. Chapter 43

**Hey there readers! **

**I know I've been posting daily for, well, pretty much the whole time I've been working on this story, and I didn't yesterday. I sorta got the flu, and this is the first time in almost three days that I haven't been sick to my stomach. **

**Second thing, I'm gonna post another, longer, chapter right after this one, just in case I don't feel up to posting tomorrow or the next day. **

**Third, and final, thing is the kinda-sorta Sam-Nikki thing. I've been trying to sorta work in slow and stuff, but should I speed it up a little? And when I say speed it up a little, I don't mean they will realize they are 'madly in love' in the next chapter and jump each other's bones. That, isn't gonna happen. This is something I'd really appreciate some input on, so…yeah. I'm fully open to what all you wonderful Wayward Children have to say, so REVIEW! :)**

**Enjoy the chapter(s)!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

I was sitting on one of the motel beds next to Sam, my chin tipped up and my neck stretched up so Sam could look at my neck. A dark purple bruise was starting to form on it.

"What did it feel like?" Sam asked as he gently pushed my hair (which was barely contained in a braid anymore) back to get a better look. His voice wasn't curious and concerned like it had been when John cut my arm. It was distracted and flat.

I shrugged at him, still not really able to talk, my throat hurt too much.

"It...It looks like fingers, a hand," he mumbled, his warm fingers lightly tracing on my neck. I couldn't help it; my eyes fluttered shut from his light touch and close proximity. "Did it actually grab you?"

I shook my head. "No." I got out, my voice was hoarse and broken.

"C'mon dad, answer your phone dammit!" Dean growled into the phone.

Sam dropped his hand from my neck and put both his elbows on his knees, turning his back to me. I sighed, grabbing the ice pack I'd gotten from the motel manager and gently pressing it to my neck as I scooted to the middle of the bed to sit cross legged.

"Something's wrong," Dean said, hanging up. I let out a humorless chuckle. Some_thing_? I can list ten things wrong right now!

"You hear me? Something's happened." Dean snapped at Sam when he didn't say anything.

"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all of this." Sam said, sending Dean a glare.

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life." Dean said seriously to his brother.

"You don't know that." Sam snapped a moment later.

I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed, my head hitting the pillows.

"So what? You're just willing to sacrifice yourself?" Dean asked angrily.

"Yeah." Sam said, standing up. "Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"That's not gonna happen, not as long as I'm around!" Dean argued.

_Not as long as I'm around either._ I thought.

"What the hell are you talking about Dean?" Sam asked, his voice raising. "We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I want to waste it. I do, ok? But it's not worth _dying _over!"

"_What_?"

"If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, I hope we never find the damn thing!"

I had enough. I threw the ice pack down on the nightstand and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

I rested my hands on either side of the sink and stared at my reflection.

Sam was right, it was like a hand around my throat. A big, dark purple hand.

There was a bruise around my eye too, from where the bottle hit me.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "_Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti_." I said slowly, reciting the self-healing incantation. "_Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti. Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti__._"

I opened one eye and saw that the purple had turned into a faded yellow, like the bruise was a few weeks old instead of a few hours. My eye, however, was completely healed.

Just the short healing chant made my head hurt. I rubbed my forehead, then moved my hand to pinch and pull at the muscle on my neck and shoulder. I stretched my right arm over my chest, pushing on it with my left, then did the same with me left arm. I was sore all over.

I undid my braid, shaking out the long, sweaty strands. I was starting to re-braid it when a slam made me jump. It wasn't like a door slamming. More like one person shoving another into a wall.

I waited a few minutes, letting them figure out their little fight before I opened the door.

I was about to open the door to see if both of them were still alive, when someone banged on it.

"Pack your crap Nik! We're leaving! _Now_!" Dean bellowed. I threw the door open, leaving my hair down.


	44. Chapter 44

Nikki POV

The most nerve racking day of my life was when I went for my final interview to get into Yale.

Chris, my foster brother, had gotten leave for the weekend to drive me to Massachusetts himself (He's in the Army). I told him to save his leave time for the holidays or something, but he didn't change his mind.

I remember sitting outside the office, my knee bouncing nervously as I bit my thumb nail and played with my hair. Then, there's Chris sitting next to me, dressed in his fatigues, arms crossed and with a smirk on his face. When I finally asked him why he was smirking, he told me that I was just psyching myself out, it wasn't going to be as bad as I thought it was.

When the doors opened and the admissions director's assistant told me I could go in, _that_ was the most nervous I'd ever been.

I was had to walk into the office and convince a snobby director lady that I was smart enough to go to Yale. My entire future counted on me not being a smartass and getting thousands of dollars of scholarships.

I threw up in her office, thankfully in the trash can.

That day, the day that my whole future counted on, paled in comparison to how I felt sitting in Bobby Singer's living room.

Dean had told me that they were gonna need help getting their dad back, and Bobby was the best. He told me not to bring up the 'witchy thing,' and let him and Sam talk to Bobby about it. That made me nervous enough.

And when Bobby told Dean about a coven of witches he took out, _by himself,_ the week before, I thought I was gonna get sick again.

I was sticking to Sam's side, looking over his shoulder as he paged through the books in Bobby's library.

"Bobby thanks, thanks for everything." I heard Dean say. "To tell you the truth I wasn't sure if we should come."

"Nonsense," Bobby said. "Your daddy needs help."

"Yeah, well, last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full'a buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Bobby sighed. "John has that effect on people." He reasoned.

I let out a laugh when I heard that, then abruptly slapped my hand over my mouth as I pressed my lips together and shut my eyes to keep from laughing. Sam chuckled once and rolled his eyes, Dean sent me an annoyed look.

"She know's what I'm talkin' about." Bobby said, nodding to me. I quickly looked away, playing with the end of my braid.

"Well, none'a that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back." He told Dean.

"Bobby, this book," Sam said with a chuckle. "I've never seen anything like it."

_Oh if you could read what I have in my basement._ This stuff was good, really good, but if I could just go get my grimoires and index...

"Key of Solomon? It's the real deal all right." Bobby assured him, coming over to see what he was looking at.

I was biting my thumb nail again not to say anything.

"Nik?" Dean asked, making me look up from the complicated protective circle on the page. "You have somethin' you wanna share with the class?"

"Uh..." I stuttered, glancing at Bobby, then Dean and Sam before looking back at my lap, shaking my head. I knew a much less complicated trap, but _I _had to draw it. Sam nudged my leg discreetly with his elbow and sent me a small, reassuring smile. I gave a shaky one back.

"This is some serious crap you boys stepped in," Bobby sighed, leaning on the desk Sam and I were at.

"Oh?" Sam asked, sounding like he didn't want to hear the answer. "How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear, say, three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops. This year, I heard'a 27 so far. You get what I'm saying?" He asked.

27 demonic possessions. My mind was running a hundred miles an hour, thinking of everything I've read, trying to rationalize this.

"More 'n more demons are walking among us-_a lot_ more." Bobby continued.

"Why?" I blurted out.

Bobby looked at me with an amused smirk. "So you _do _talk." He said, chuckling. I looked down quickly to play with the end of the braid.

"No," he said, answering my question. "But I know it's something big. The storm's coming, and you boys-" He looked away from me to Sam and Dean. "-your daddy, you're smack in the middle of it."

Sam and Dean shared a look, while I got off the edge of the desk where I had been perched. I crossed my arms tightly around my chest and slowly wandered past the dirty windows. I was gnawing my lip as I tried to blame my sudden, overwhelming uneasiness on being in a hunter's house.

"What I don't get is how your girlfriend here fits into this." I heard Bobby say, probably to Sam and Dean, but louder. He wanted me to hear it. I froze, my eyes widening as I stood by the window.

"Uh..." I heard Sam say. "N-Nikki's...a friend..." He said vaguely.

"Well I don't know 'bout you boys, but I don't take my poker buddies with when I hunt a friggen' _vamp nest_." Bobby challenged. "She ain't a hunter, didn't even notice the holy water in her glass!"

"I noticed," I said quietly, not turning around. It was true, I did. The glass of water Bobby had ever so graciously offered me tasted a _little_ salty, not to mention the tingly, fuzzy feeling that came once it went down my throat. "I just didn't say anything."

"Bobby, just-just hear us out, ok?" Sam said calmly.

"Hear you out?" Bobby snapped, clearly frustrated by being kept out of the loop. "About _what_?"

"She's on our side. Even dad trusted her...Well, enough not to double-cross us." Dean said, shrugging slightly at the end.

"What the hell are you two talkin' about?" Bobby asked, more frustrated than before.

"It's all new to her, ok?" Sam said, standing up. "She's just trying to help us, she _has_ helped us."

"If you don't tell me what the hell is going on-" Bobby started to threaten, but a growling from outside stopped him.

"I-I'll check on Rumsfeld...I need some air anyway." I said quickly, pushing past Sam. I half-slammed the door behind me, leaning on it as I tried to calm myself down. After a few second of that, I walked towards Bobby's truck, where I saw Rumsfeld earlier.

A sharp whimper followed by the snap of metal made me spin around. When I saw nothing, I kept walking towards the truck. Where Rumsfeld's chain was tethered to a tree, only a length of chain about a foot long swung from it.

"Uh-oh..." I said quietly, releasing the feeling of uneasiness. I read about it in Jane's journal.

_January 25, 1855_

_Today I went to town to pick up a hat from London that father ordered for me. As I walked into the post office, I got such a strong ill feeling that I thought I was going to faint, or vomit. Neither option was desirable, so I grabbed onto Jacob for support. _Jacob was Jane's best friend, and her personal man-servant. _He insisted we return home and ask my mother to treat me for whatever was causing me such ill feelings. But once I set one foot outside the post office, I was alright. Perfectly fine. _

_Father returned home late today, saying he found a demon in Janesville. This demon was possessing a clerk at the post office. _

_I have not told mother, nor father. I'm attributing this to the reincarnated soul within me. _

I had every power she did.

_She_ sensed demons.

_I _sensed demons.

"Crap." I squeaked out, quickly turning around to run back into Bobby's warded house.

Something tripped me, sending me face first into the dirt. I heard a small crunch that I'm sure came from my nose. I pushed myself up, but a foot in the middle of my back kept me down.

"Hey Nikki," A woman said. She spoke like we were old friends, not like she was pinning me to the dirt. "I'm _so_ glad we finally get to meet."

A felt two hands grab my shoulders, pulling me up quickly, and one arm wrap around my throat, crushing my already injured throat.

"I'm Meg." She said in my ear.


	45. Chapter 45

**Hey readers! **

**First thing, I wanna let you guys know that I sometimes post two chapters at a time, so…Uh, make sure you don't skip any. **

**Anyway, I worked hard on this chapter, and I'm still not a big fan of it, so, be nice please. **

**Since I'm still sick, I'm not gonna update until sometime next week, after I do all my the school work I missed. Unless, of course, I can get 5 reviews ;) . If that happens, I'll post as soon as I see all those lovely comments. The longer the better!**

**I hope I got Bobby's character right, he's harder to write than I thought he'd be. **

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Omniscient POV

"Bobby, she-she's on our side-" Sam tried to explain to the older hunter.

"_Bullshit_!" Bobby snapped, loading his shotgun with iron buckshot.

"Bobby!" Dean finally yelled, grabbing the shotgun out of his hands. "She's _on our side_! Even our _dad_ trusted her!"

"She's a _witch_ Dean!" Bobby yelled back. "You know what manipulative little bitches they are!"

"Nikki's not like that!" Sam said, his voice rising with every word.

"Sorry to burst your bubble Romeo, but she _is_." Bobby spat at Sam, grabbing a pistol from the top drawer of his desk.

"You saw her in here! She was scared out of her mind! You really think a manipulative witch would tiptoe around you?" Sam challenged, grabbing the gun from Bobby.

Whatever response Bobby had was cut off then the front door of his house was kicked in.

"Well, now it's a party," Meg said, sauntering in with one arm holding a struggling Nikki in a choke hold.

"But seriously boys," Meg sighed, resting her chin on Nikki's shoulder. "No more crap, ok?"

Dean reached for the flask of holy water in his jacket, Bobby did the same. Sam was just frozen. Nikki was looking at him pleadingly, her face smeared with dirt and her nose bloody. Dean unscrewed the flask of holy water and started towards Meg. A simple flick of her free hand she sent Dean flying into one of the stacks of books.

Sam pushed in front of Bobby, glancing from his unconscious brother to the demon that was choking Nikki.

"I want the Colt Sam. The _real_ Colt," Meg said, casually draping her free arm across the arm that was choking Nikki as she stalked towards Sam and Bobby. The hunters walked backwards, away from the demon.

"We don't have it on us." Sam said, letting Bobby pull him back. "We buried it."

"Nik?" Meg asked, like the girl was her best friend. "Didn't I saw 'no more crap'?" Nikki let out a louder, gasping choking sound as he eyes opened wide when Meg flexed her grasp. Meg looked from Nikki to Sam. "I _think _that's a yes."

"I swear," Meg sighed. "After everything I heard about you Winchesters, and this little gem here, I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. Especially by you Nikki," Meg sighed again, resting her chin on Nikki's shoulder.

"I thought you'd be more _fun_." She whispered in her ear, a bit more breathy and low than Nikki was comfortable with.

"First, Johnny tried to pawn off a fake gun," Meg started to list off, not paying attention to Nikki, who was gripping the rivets on her sweatshirt tightly and pulling down so her skin ripped, letting a small amount of blood cover her fingers.

"Then, he leaves the real gun with you two chuckle heads and a half-ass witch," Meg kept ranting.

Nikki had her eyes closed in concentration as she used her blood to draw a symbol on Meg's leather jacket. Every gasping breath she took, she forced out an incantation. It was almost inaudible through her choking, but it was said, so it worked.

"It's all a little lackluster, don't you think?" Meg asked Nikki, flexing her grip in two places, making her let out more choking noises.

Nikki's grimace turned into a smirk as she was forced through the thin wall of gold light. It was nearly invisible, but she saw it. She knew she was the only one who saw it. She could feel the difference under her feet, and her choking turned to broken, gaspy giggles.

"What?" Meg snapped at Nikki, loosening her grip slightly, but Nikki just kept smirking and giggling.

"I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" Meg asked, turning back to Sam and Bobby.

"Actually," Dean said, making his way into the back room. "We were counting on it."

Meg pulled Nikki with her as she turned around to face Dean. Nikki kept up her gaping giggles, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, like Dean. Meg followed their gaze.

When Meg had her chin up, looking at the devils trap painted on the ceiling, Nikki slammed her elbow up into Meg's stomach. The demon gasped in surprise and tightened her arm still around Nikki's throat. Nikki used her weight against the demon to shove her against the edge of the devils trap, which felt like a burning brick wall to the demon and glowed red where the demon touched it.

While Meg let out a painful screech, Nikki pushed out of the choke hold and grabbed Meg's hair in a tight fist. With all the strength she had left in her, Nikki pulled Meg's head back and slammed it into the edge of the devil's trap.

The whole thing took less than six seconds.

Nikki fell forward onto her knees, grasping her throat with one hand, the other was keeping her off the floor. Meg slid down the devil's trap, half conscious from the beating her body took. Thanks to the symbol in Nikki's blood on her jacket and the incantation, her demon strength was gone. She was as strong as her meat suit was as long as the symbol remained un-smeared.

Sam lurched forward towards Nikki, helping her up as she coughed and sputtered for air. He led her to a chair, where she leaned her face into his chest as she continued to gasp for air. She gripped his shirt as she rested her forehead in the center of his chest. Sam put an arm around her, and gently held the back of her head as she continued to gasp. Not that Sam noticed, but Nikki's gasps for air steadied once he put his arms around her while her heart sped up.

"Where…Where did you learn how to do that?" Dean asked Nikki, surprised at the ass kicking he'd seen the 5'7" girl had let loose on the demon a minute ago.

"F-Foster brother…" Nikki said through her gasps. "G-Green…Beret…" She peeked over Sam's shoulder with a smirk as she took in Dean's impressed face.


	46. Chapter 46

**Hey there all you readers!  
****Well, I promised that I'd update when I got 5 reviews, or at the end of the week. Well, it's the end of the week. I know, I know I've pretty much poster every day on this story, but I don't really think I'm going to be able to do that.  
****I have a new semester staring at school, and I was out with a week 'cause of the flu, so, I think I'm going to have to cut down to updating once or twice a week. :( Sorry.  
****But, the review thing still stands; if I can get 5 reviews on this chapter before Wednesday (Feb. 19), I'll post as soon as I see them!  
****Enjoy the chapter!**

**-**_**Christianne**_

Nikki POV

"You sure you're ok?" Sam asked, looking at my bruised neck. "I mean, the one from the demon was gone in less than an hour."

I winced as he gently prodded a particularly tender part of flesh. "Yeah, well," I croaked out quietly. "I had a little bit of help."

Sam chuckled once, looking down from my face. His face contorted to one that alsmot looked annoyed, as he looked the iron cuffs around my wrists. "He'll warm up to you," he assured me. I sighed and rested my elbows on the arm of the chair. "I-I'll be right back." He said quickly, giving me an apologetic smile before going into the kitchen.

Something I should point out; the first thing Bobby had did when Sam was assured him and Dean that I was alright was cuff my hands around the arm of a chair, effectively trapping me into a chair.

"Hey!" I called after him. "_Hey_! Don't leave me in here with this psycho!"

"Oh, who you callin' psycho, hun?" Meg asked, sending me a smirk from the devils trap.

"Oh shut up," I moaned, rubbing my eyes. After I relaxed a little, well, as much as I could with a demon in the room and handcuffed to the chair, I started to call up all the, well, _magic_ I had.

"_Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti__._" I said slowly, reciting the healing incantation. "_Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus uti__Sana me, et ego sanabo, et aliis viribus_-"

"Wow...It's been _years _since I've heard that one," Meg said, her head lolling back to glare at the devils trap.

"Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate." I snapped. My throat already felt better, but I was trying to get it pain free, not sore.

"You know, I thought that you human witches couldn't cast anything through iron," Meg commented.

"What part of 'shut up' is too hard for your tiny, dark, demon mind to understand?" I asked, sending her a glare. "And iron doesn't affect me." I added.

"Oh..." Meg trailed off. "You are as good as they say." I looked at her, confused.

"You don't know?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. I kept my glare steady, but raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You're all the rage in Hell sweetie, the way that lookalike of yours fought off thousands of us? Well, let's just say you really _excited_ the gang down stairs. They _all_ wanted to get their hands on a piece of your sweet ass." Meg said, that stupid smirk still on her face.

"Jee, thanks." I said sarcastically. "But my bad-boy complex isn't _that_ bad."

"Yeah, well don't get _too_ excited." Meg laughed darkly. "The boss gave us..._Limits_." She leaned forward with a wicked grin on her face.

"Well don't hold back," I snapped, leaning forward as well. This demon was pushing all of my buttons.

"Not in my nature Nikki." Meg smirked. She sighed when I didn't respond. She wiggled in her chair a little, I guess even demons get uncomfortable when they're tied up in a chair.

I ignored her and started the healing incantation again.

"So, what's the deal you and Sam?" She asked randomly a few minutes later.

"Excuse me?" I asked, raising my head up from my hands where I was trying to think of how to get out of the cuffs.

"Can't say you have a bad taste in men," Meg continued, arching her neck over to try and see Dean and Sam in the kitchen. "I mean, a cheap motel, those two slabs of prime rib, maybe some'a the goodies from their trunk to keep things interesting; sounds like the makings of a great weekend."

"Maybe for a hell-bitch like you, but they are my _friends_." I snapped, rubbing my eyes, forcing myself not to think about Sam.

"Oh, 'hell-bitch.' That hurt my feelings Nik." Meg pouted.

"Good." I snapped, glaring at her. "And don't call me Nik. Only my friends can call me that."

Meg chuckled, smirking. "Hun, we're _family_."

"I don't _have_ a family." I snapped harshly, glaring at her. "Shut up."

"Don't be all broken foster child on me," Meg snapped. "You got a bigger family than you could ever _dream_ about."

My jaw cleched as I tried to ignore her. I thought about Greg and Olivia, my last foster parents, and Chris, was the closest thing I had to a brother. _They_ were my family. "Shut up." I growled at Meg.

"Pop quiz! How do you think most demons start out?" Meg said, sounding like a twisted, enthusiastic game show host.

"Shut up," I said again.

"Wrong! That answer I was looking for, was 'Witches get power hungry, make demon deals and then _burn in hell_'." Meg said, leaning forward to hiss the last words.

"Shut up!" I repeated, rubbing my temples trying to stop the growing headache.

"_Please_," Meg laughed. "You may as well stop denying it now. Soon enough, you'll be like me." She said happily, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Shut-"

"We're _family_, Nikki-dear. One day, you'll be right next to me in He-"

"I said _shut up_!" I said, throwing my head down to my hands. They gripped my temples, my fingers knotted in my hair and my eyes pinched shut as I felt a sharp jolt surge through my body. I was shaking from the aftermath of the surge, my head pounding. I tried to push the surging energy out of my body; hating the harsh, all-consuming feeling it was giving me.

"Nik?" I heard Sam call from the kitchen, then a few sets of heavy footsteps. "What the hell-? _Nikki_!"

I felt a large, strong hand wrap around one of my wrists and pry it from my temple, pinning it down as he did the same to the other one.

"Hey! Nikki, hey hey hey," Sam said softly, trying to gain my attention, but my head was still pounding painfully. I felt something drip from my nose. Another nose bleed.

"Sam! What the hell is she doing?" I heard Bobby yell. Sam didn't say anything. He must have cuffed my hands because he pulled me up from my uncomfortable slouched position, putting his hands under my arms and leaning me back in the chair. I still had my eyes pinched shut in pain, the surge of-of _power_ was lingering in me, pulsing through my veins. I've never felt so physically exhausted, and it just kept getting worse.

"Nikki!" I heard Sam yell desperately, my eyes flew open when I felt him cup my face in his warm, large hands. The surging feeling stopped imminently after I opened my eyes and left me feeling drained and out of it. I just stared up at Sam lazily as he looked me over with frantic eyes. "Are you ok?" He asked me.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, not really listening.

He was _so_ handsome. He had such pretty eyes. A pretty pretty blue with that ring of hazel and flecks of green.

"Nik, what the hell was that?" Dean bellowed, checking the pulse on Meg, who was now passed out.

"I dunno." I sighed, my head lolling to one side as Sam took one hand to wipe blood away from under my nose.

"Cuff her again!" Bobby demanded.

"Aw, _why_?" I whined, pouting at Bobby.

Sam sighed sadly as he cuffed my hands around the arm of the chair again.

My mind was so hazy and out of it, I started giggling about the fact that _Sam was handcuffing me_.


	47. Chapter 47

Nikki POV

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask." Meg said casually.

It'd taken me about 45 minutes to get my head back and for Meg to regain consciousness.

"Ask? That's it?" I scoffed from my spot, still handcuffed in a chair, next to Sam. "I _at least_ make the guy buy me dinner." Sam's neck and cheeks flushed, and Dean looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I salted the windows and doors," Bobby said, returning from his quick run around the house. "How's she doin'?" He asked, nodding towards me.

"Still handcuffed." I sighed, exaggerating my statement by tugging on the cuffs and making them clink against the wooden arm of the chair. "You owe me dinner, by the way." I added. "You too Sam." I reminded him, making his cheeks flush again. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep his strong, hard demeanor.

Dean stepped towards the devil's trap. "Where's our father, Meg?" He asked bluntly.

"You didn't ask very nice." She pouted, a dark smirk on her face.

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean asked in the same tone, not missing a beat.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, I forgot, you don't." Meg pretended to pout.

"You think this is a freaking game?" Dean yelled, walking into the devils trap to rest his hands on the arms of Meg's chair. "Where is he? What did you do to him?" He yelled in her face.

"He died screaming!" Meg said calmly, almost proud. "I killed him myself." The boys shared a look before Dean backhanded Meg across the face.

"That's kind of a turn-on...You hitting a girl." Meg said in a supposed-to-be sultry voice.

"Well you're kinda a loose interpretation of the word." I muttered, glaring at Meg. Dean raised his hand again. "Dean!" I said quickly, stopping him.

I glanced at Bobby. "Think you can make me mobile?" I asked. Bobby grumbled, but un-cuffed one of my hands and pulled them out from the chair's arm before cuffing them again. "Thanks." I said honestly, walking into the other room, thankfully Dean, Sam and Bobby followed.

"Dean you _can't_ keep slapping her around." I said firmly, linking my cuffed hands together and putting them behind my head, trying to get rid of the numb feeling in my arms.

Dean laughed once humorlessly. "She knows where our dad is Nik!"

"No, _she_ doesn't, the demon _in her_ does." I corrected him. Bobby seemed surprised.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked me, curious.

"She's _possessed_ Sam, she's a human girl being possessed." I stated. "I mean, can't you tell? For God's sake, _I_ beat her up! You think _I_ could do that kind of damage to a _demon_?"

"Are you saying there's an innocent girl trapped in there somewhere?" Dean asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah, probably scared shitless from being trapped in her own mind and from being forced to watch whatever the hell that demon's been doing."

He looked back at Meg. "That's actually good news."

"What exorcism you gonna use?" I asked, straining my neck to see the pages of John's journal in Sam's hands. I was cuffed back in the chair, Bobby's doing. Dean and Sam kept assuring me that Bobby would eventually warm up to me, but with the way he was glaring at me out of the corner of his eye didn't really back that up.

"Uh…This one," Sam said, seeing my straining and held the book down so I could see.

When Dean came back from the kitchen, they started.

Sam held the journal as he and Dean walked around Meg, still bound in the circle.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" Meg asked sweetly. I noticed she did that a lot, said something so sweet it was like a knife twisting in your stomach.

"Something like that. Hit it, Sam." Dean said, glancing at his younger brother.

"_Regna terrae, cantáte deo, pasállite domino_-" Sam started reading the exorcism, and I was straining and pulling against the cuffs, wanting to help.

"An exorcism? Are you _serious_?" Meg chuckled.

"We're going for it baby. Head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards." Dean said, clearly itching to hit her again.

"_Tribuite virtutem deo_." Sam continued, making Meg moan in pain, her face screwing up to match it. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to surprise Sam and Dean.

"I'm gonna kill you." Meg said, looking at Sam. "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body." She continued, looking at Dean. "And drag you to Hell." She snarled, this time looking at me.

"You're going to Hell, but you're going alone." I snapped at her. "Unless you tell them where their dad is."

When she just smiled at me, through the pain, I leaned back in my chair. "Well, send us a postcard." I sighed, looking at Sam.

"_Exorcitzamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas. Omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio_," Sam read clearly. Meg was convulsing in her chair, her jaw clenched shut, to hold in a scream no doubt.

"_Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica_." Sam kept going.

Meg screamed, still convulsing. "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." Meg spat out through her heaving breath. Sam and Dean shared a horrified look.

I stared at Meg, narrowing my eyes. "You're lying." I said suddenly, realizing what the golden edges of the devils trap where festering a dark brown. The books I had said that was a sign a demon in a devils trap was lying.

"You're lying, he's alive." I said, suddenly filled with relief. I may not like John very much, but I sure as hell don't want him dead. Dean, Sam and Bobby all looked at me like they wanted to believe me, but didn't think a demon could _lie_ through an _exorcism_. "Sam, Sam keep going." I urged.

"_Ergo_…" Sam imminently started again.

"For your sake, she better be right." Dean growled at Meg while Sam read the exorcism. "'cause if that's true, I swear to God, I will march into Hell myself, and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God."

"_Perditionis veneum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae_-" Sam paused, a sharp breeze started in the room, turning pages in a book. I sent him an encouraging look. "_Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribli nomine, quem inferi tremunt_." Meg screamed again as Dean demanded to know where his dad was.

"You just won't take 'dead' as an answer, will you?" Meg snarled.

"Where is he?" Dean yelled.

"Dead!" Meg lied.

"No! He's not!" I yelled over the now wind in the room.

"He's not dead!" Dean yelled, leaning down in Meg's face. "He can't be!" He was literally shaking with anger as he looked at Meg. His gaze snapped to Sam, who had stopped speaking.

"What are you lookin' at?-Keep reading!" He snapped.

"_Ab insidiis diabolt, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate sevire, te rogamus, audi nos_." Sam read off.

Meg screamed louder this time, her chair slamming into the sides of the devils trap as she writhed and screamed in pain. Still bound in her chair, she was rolling around on the floor, flipping around so much the whole trap was red.

"_Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus aud_i-"

"He will be!" Meg screamed, cutting Sam off.

"Wait!" Dean yelled at Sam, throwing a hand up. "What?" He yelled, this time at Meg.

"He's not dead, but he will be after what we do to him." Meg said shakily, I actually expected her to be worse than she was.

I knew what was going on inside her vessel. The demon was burning from the inside out, the exorcism was corrupting the smoke form, leaving it no choice but to stay in the vessel and burn.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean snapped.

"She is." I said, my own voice strained from how hard I was concentrating, trying to give the devils trap more power while forcing my eyes open to see the changes in the thin film of gold light. "She's telling the truth, she's not lying." I said honestly.

"Sam!" Dean ordered him to keep reading the exorcism.

"A building!" Meg finally yelled. "Ok? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Dean questioned. "Where-Where? An address!"

"I don't know." Meg snapped.

"And the demon-where is it?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. I swear." Meg answered, her voice was shaky and in pain.

"That's everything. That's all I know." She was pleading now.

"Finish it." Dean snapped at Sam.

"What? I-I told you the truth! Ask-Ask her! Ask the-AskFilius Concuoivi!" She screamed, looking at me. "Tell them!" She screamed, practically begging.

"W-What-?" I started to ask.

"I don't care." Dean snapped.

"You son of a bitch-You promised." Meg growled out.

"I lied!" He yelled back. "Sam?" Sam stayed silent. I looked at him, trying to guess what he was thinking. I had no idea.

"Sam! Read!" Dean said to his brother, almost sounding annoyed.

"We can still use her, find out where the demon is." Sam said calmly.

"She doesn't know, Sam." I said softly, trying to understand how he was feeling. He sent me a sharp look that had the same effect as Dean's glare. But I didn't react to it. "There's an innocent girl in there. You gotta get that outta her, she wouldn't wanna die with _that_ in her."

"What? What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asked, looking down at me, confused.

Bobby stepped in this time. "You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken, the only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it, the girl is gonna die."

"We are not gonna leave her like that." Dean snapped.

"She is a human being-" Bobby started.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery." Dena finished for him.

"If you finish it, I might be able to keep her alive until an ambulance gets here." I offered. Bobby looked at me with narrow eyes. "C'mon, I know I'm not exactly your first choice, but _I'm trying to help_."

Wordlessly, Bobby un-cuffed me. I stood up, rubbing my sore wrists. I looked at Sam. "Finish it."

Sam glared at me and exhaled sharply as he turned back to Meg.

"_Dominicos sancta ecclesiae. Terogamus audi nos. Terribilis deus de sancturio suo deus israhel ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudiem plebe suae_." Sam started to read.

I had my eyes closed, hands clasped together in concentration as I recited the spell in my head, channeling my energy into it.

I was concentrating so hard on such a deep part of me, I didn't know Sam was done until I heard that blood curdling scream and felt the dark presence leave.

Everyone was silent for a minute to see if it worked. When the blonde girl gave a soft, wheezy breath, she was imminently untied and carefully laid on the ground.

"Call 911. I can keep her alive for a little bit but I can't save her. Get water and blankets," I ordered quickly, kneeling at the blonde's side and grabbed one of her hands.


	48. Chapter 48

**This time, I mean it. 5 reviews before I post again. :)**

Nikki POV

_Everyone was silent for a minute to see if it worked. When the blonde girl gave a soft, wheezy breath, she was imminently untied and carefully laid on the ground. _

"_Call 911. I can keep her alive for a little bit but I can't save her. Get water and blankets," I ordered quickly, kneeling at the blonde's side and grabbed one of her hands_.

I took a deep breath before I started the incantation. "_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_." I said slowly.

I'd never done this spell on someone who was so injured. Once, I'd used Jeremy as my guinea pig when he had a paper cut. It worked by opening up the energy pathways for me, the witch, to give my energy to who needed it. The bad part was I felt some of pain they felt.

It was gradual at first, just a throbbing in my back, so I kept going. "_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_." My head started to hurt, not from the energy transfer, but from how hard I was concentrating.

"Thank you," the blonde breathed. It came out slightly gargled from the blood on her lips. "Thank you thank you thank you thank…" she said after a shaky, deep inhale.

"Shh, shh, just take it easy, all right?" Sam said calmly as he gently put a wadded up towel under her head.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver. Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_." I kept chanting, holding her hand in both of mine.

"A year," she got out, her voice strained.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"It's been over a year." She said quietly.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Just-just take it easy…"

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"I've been awake for some of it…I-I couldn't move my own body…The things I did…It's a nightmare…" She whimpered.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Nikki?" I heard Sam ask. I ignored him.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Nik-Are you ok?" Sam asked again. I nodded, concentrating on the chant. I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. I slouched onto a desk, eyes pinched shut as I kept saying the spell over and over. It was almost like I couldn't stop, like I was continuously compelled to say the words.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Was it telling the truth about our dad?" Dean asked urgently. He and Sam briefly argued, but stopped abruptly when the blonde spoke.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Yes," she said, her voice strained. "But it...wants you to know…that…they want you to come for him."

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Nikki, your-your nose-" I ground my teeth, cutting Sam off and turned my head to wipe the blood from my nose on my shoulder.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Dad's still alive, that's all that matters," Dean said to the girl.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Called the paramedics, they should be here soon." Bobby said. "She-She supposed to be like that?" I'm guessing he was referring to me.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"I-I don't know," Sam said. I felt a hand under my chin, lifting my head up from where it had lolled onto my shoulder, trying to keep my airway straight, if I had to guess.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" Dean asked.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Not-Not there." She answered. "Oth-Other ones. _Awful_, ones."

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Nikki, you can stop," I heard Sam say softly. I kept going.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Where are they keeping our dad?" Dean asked again.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"By the r-river." The blonde gasped out again.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad_-Ahh!" I gasped, doubling over as I felt a shooting pain in my midsection.

"Nikki! Nik, it's ok," Sam reassured me. "You can stop now."

"_C-Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"S-Sunrise." She gasped out.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum l…la…_"

"'Sunrise'? What does that mean?" Dean demanded, but the girl's eyelids where fluttering shut.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum…laver_."

"Hey! Nik! C'mon! We need to know where our dad is!" Dean said, almost angry. I felt a strong hand grab mine and the girls, holding them together tighter; my grip had gotten limp.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do ti-tib…_"

"_C'mon_!" Dean urged through clenched teeth, squeezing Meg's and my hands together tighter.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae de…tuae de…_"

"Dean!" Sam snapped, ripping his brother's grip off my hands. When the contact was broken I felt like I was pulled up from underwater. I could breathe again. The compulsion to say the spell was gone too. "She-She done, ok? Just look at her!" I felt Dean grab my hand and press it to Meg's again, bringing back the compulsion, and it felt like a tight hand around my throat.

"_C-Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver._"

"Dean!" It was Bobby this time. "Can't you see she's had enough?!"

"_Cor…Corpore sano_…" I was in _so much pain_.

My back hurt. My lungs burned. My head felt like someone was slamming against a brick wall. There was a sharp, needle like pain in my shoulder. I tightened my grip on her bloody hand out of sheer agony.

"_Corpore sano, s-sana animam meam. D-Do tibi vis, f-fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad-Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis t-tuae deum laver_."

"It's…It's a…" The girl tried to get out.

"Yeah?" Dean asked attentively, leaning closer so she wouldn't have to speak very loud.

"_Corpore…sano, sana animam…meam. Do tibi vis, fac me…in toto. Magia…servo meo male, sicut Deus vult…Ad onera, ad…imperium tuum precor…supernae dilectionis…tuae deum…laver_."

"Nik! Nikki you can stop now!" Sam said, his voice was strained, like he wanted to yell, but thought it'd stress me out.

"Do…you have….what you….need." I forced out. "_Corpore…sano, sana animam…meam. Do tibi vis, fac me…in toto. Magia_-"

"Yes! Yeah, Nik, we do, _you can to stop_!" Sam said. I felt his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs where on my cheeks, keeping my head up. I took a deep breath.

"_**Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver**_**.**" I said forcefully, trying to power through the crippling pain.

"C'mon!" Dean growled, pressing our hands together again.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"Dean-_Enough!_" Bobby finally yelled, pushing him back and yanking my hand from the blonde's.

"Nikki?" I heard Sam ask urgently, I felt his large, warm hands cup my face as I fell slack onto the floor. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a disgruntled sigh-like moan.

"What the hell Bobby?" I heard Dean snap at the older hunter. "We need to know where dad is!"

"Did you not _see_ that girl, Dean?" Bobby said, almost coldly. "She's lookin' worse than the dead girl next to her!"

I wasn't sure if I was conscious or not. I think I was, to an extent.

I felt myself being gently pulled up and forward until I was leaning against something firm and warm underneath me. A hand went to my back while another went under my legs, lifting me up. I was leaning against the warm torso of someone, as they picked me up from the floor.

I grumbled, squirming in their grip, trying to say I was fine.

"Hey, shh, shh. Just clam down," I heard Sam say softly. He must be the one carrying me.

I inhaled, my already hazy mind drowning in the smell of his dark red shirt. It was a _great_ smell.

I'm sure I could have come up with some other way to describe it, but considering I couldn't even feel my legs I just went with _great_. I let out a heavy exhale and snuggled into Sam's chest. It vibrated and moved as he chuckled at me.

"Bobby, you gotta place she can lay down?" I felt Sam ask. Talking made his chest vibrate comfortingly. I pressed my cheek closer, hearing the steady thump-thumping of his heart. I wasn't in very much pain anymore. I just felt…drained. Really, _really_ _drained_.

"Yeah, put'er in the other room." Bobby said gruffly.

I weakly held onto Sam's jacket as he laid me down on what felt like an old couch. I'm not even sure he noticed; my fingers just fell away when he stepped back.

The last thing I remember was a hand gently brushing a few hairs out of my face.


	49. Chapter 49

**See? 5 reviews wasn't so hard! And, as promised, I'm posting!  
So, since my school schedule is sorta getting more reliable, I'll be posting every Tuesday, _unless_ the chapter get's 5 reviews. Then, I'll post ASAP, like today :)**

Nikki POV

I groaned as I opened my eyes.

I was staring at the dusty ceiling of Bobby's living room for God knows how long before I tried to sit up. I put a hand to my head to try and stop the spinning that occurred when I did.

"You awake in there?" I heard Bobby say from the other room.

"If I'm not this is a crappy dream," I called back, blinked my eyes a few times to get rid of the blurry haze. I looked out the window, it was early evening now.

Bobby walked into the room, book in hand, past me to his desk.

"So…No cuffs this time?" I asked lightly.

He shrugged. "You feelin' alright?"

"Yeah," I said, cracking my neck to get rid of the kinks. "I've been _better_, but overall, yeah, alright."

"What the hell happened anyway?" Bobby asked, shutting his book with more force than necessary.

I hesitated briefly, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. "The-uh-The healing spell I used basically lets me give my energy to whoever I'm touching, the down side is I get a bit of their pain and suffering."

"Give energy…" Bobby repeated, surprised. "So, you…you weakened yourself and took that girls pain, so she could tell the boys where their daddy was."

"Yeah, pretty much," I shrugged, raking my hair away from my face.

"Did you hear Sam callin' to you when you were chanting?" Bobby asked me a few minutes later. I nodded. "And, you kept goin'." He stated.

"Yeah." I said again, nodding. He just looked at me oddly. "What?" I asked eventually.

"Nuthin'…Just…re-thinkin' how I view everything I hunt," he muttered, slamming a drawer shut.

"Where are Sam and Dean?" I asked, realizing that they weren't here.

"Probably just getting to Missouri now." Bobby told me.

"What? They-They went after the demon?" I asked, wide eyed.

"Yup," Bobby said simply.

"They…You…They-Whoa!" I yelped. I'd tried to stand up, and ended up just falling back on the sofa. "Damnit." I cursed, rubbing my throbbing forehead.

"Just lay down, get some rest. Maybe when you wake up again you'll have your sea legs back." Bobby said, pushing my shoulder back onto the sofa as he walked past me.

I laid still for a second, then a thought entered my mind. "Hey Bobby? You aren't gonna, like, shoot me while I'm asleep, are you?"

"Nah…" Was his reply. "Just got Rufus's blood outta that couch. Don't wanna clean it again."

* * *

_It was dark. A familiar Impala was driving down the two lane road way over the speed limit._

_Sam's face flashed into view. "No sir, not before everything."_

_A white 18-wheeler was flying down the road, it hit the black car, pushing it off the road._

_The face of the older truck driver flickered, his eyes black._

_John's head was bloody as it lolled onto the door, he was unconscious._

_Sam's head was thrown back over the driver's seat, he was bloody too. I felt myself start to panic._

_Dean…Dean was in the worse shape. Seeing him like that made my stomach tie it's self in a knot and jump up to my throat. He wasn't as bloody as Sam or John, but he looked in the most pain._

_Sam's eyes opened suddenly. He took a sharp breath in and winced._

_The truck driver pulled the driver's side door completely off its hinges._

_Sam looked up at the demon, bloody, with the Colt weakly pointed at the truck driver._

"_Get back or I'll kill you. I swear to God."_

"_You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else."_

_Sam held in a wince as he sat up more, cocking the Colt._

"_You wanna bet?"_

_Black smoke filled the air as the demon left the truck driver._

_Sam put the hammer back down, letting his head fall back.  
_

"_Dad?" He asked, trying his best to turn his head to look at John. "Dad!" Sam said again, more urgently and worried._

_The truck driver was horrified, thinking he ran them off the road. He ran to his truck go call 911._

"_Dean?" Sam asked, turning his head to see his brother slouched into the back of the front seat._

"_**Dean**__-!"  
_

* * *

I gasped as I sat up.

I was sweating, my lungs burned like I had been running.

"Whoa, Nikki, what happened?" Bobby said, letting the door slam behind him as he came in from outside.

"We-We need to go. We need to go _now_." I said, jumping up and running over to my bags. I tossed out the grimoires I'd already read and stuffed a few fresh sets of clothes along with my small toiletries bag.

"You gotta car?" I asked, quickly looking in my herb bag before buckling it up.

"Yeah, _why_-?" Bobby started to ask slowly.

"How 'bout a tow truck?" I asked, unbraiding my hair and raking it back a few times so I could see.

"Yeah, Nikki what the hell are you doing?" Bobby asked, worried now.

"How fast does that car go?" I asked, throwing my backpack over my shoulder.

"Nikki!" Bobby yelled, grabbing my shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

"I-I saw. I saw them get hit." I said weakly, my adrenalin was still running high but I couldn't help but feel weak. Bobby looked like he was about to say something, but I cut him off.

"We need to get to the Missouri." I stated, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I held my hand out. "Keys?"


	50. Chapter 50

**Hey there readers!  
I'm really happy to see that you all like this story! And, the 5 reviews thing still stands!  
~_Christianne_**

Nikki POV

Bobby never did answer my question; if the car he had was fast.

_It was._

I didn't really know a lot about cars, but I knew what I liked; _fast_.

And the one Bobby gave me the keys too was fast.

It was roughly 530 miles from Bobby's house to the hospital in Missouri, a nine hour drive.

I made it in seven and a half. Chris, never let me drive. He always said I drove like a NASCAR reject. Now, I think he may have been onto something.

Bobby got a call from Sam a few hours after I left, he was on his way with a tow truck behind me.

Thankfully, there weren't many cops and the car had good breaks.

I wouldn't be surprised if people thought I'd just ran out of some mental ward somewhere. My hair was a dark brown mess, like an uncontrolled halo of dark curls that ran down the back of my dirty jacket. Almost everything I was wearing was dusted with dirt, larger smears on my knees, and the backpack I had on could barely stay zipped shut.

"Hi…" I gasped out when I got to the desk. I was out of breath from running all the way from the back of the parking lot. "I-I got a…call…from my-my friends…" I panted.

"They-They were….hit-bit by a…a truck…Three guys…two young, one older…" I said, my hand pressing to my side where there was a sharp pain growing. "Oh God I _have _to start jogging!"

The woman behind the desk chuckled slightly as she typed. "You're probably looking for Elroy McGillicuddy and his son's Donald and Maximus, right?" She asked. I would have laughed at the names if this hadn't been so serious. I nodded.

"Yeah, yeah that's them." I confirmed.

"Well, just go up those stairs to the second floor," she pointed to a flight of stairs to the left. "And it'll be rooms 345 and 356."

"Thank you," I said honestly before walking quickly to the stairs.

I practically ran down the halls until I skidded to a stop.

"Dean?" I called, unspeakably happy to see the older Winchester brother. He spun around, clearly surprised.

I let out a laugh as I ran towards him, planning to give him a hug that would pop any stitches he'd've gotten.

"Ooff!" I grunted as I hit the wall. I sat on the floor, dazed.

"Nikki?" I heard Dean ask. I looked up at Dean, dressed in white hospital pajamas. Damn it, I was hoping to get back at him for some of his teasing when he was in one of those paper hospital gowns. He had a thick gash stitched up on his forehead and a few stretches, but other than that he looked perfectly fine.

"Whoa." He said lowly, looking down. I followed his gaze and yelped as I jumped back.

I thought when I ran to hug him he'd moved or something, then I'd hit the wall. But considering he'd been standing _in_, literally _in_ my lap, as in his ankles started where my thighs stopped, I don't think I missed him.

"What the hell?" I hissed as I got up and brushed myself off.

"You-You can see me?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah," I breathed, running a hand through my hair as I thought. "No one else can see you, can they?" I guessed. My mind was reeling with possibilities, most centering around some sort of spirit or out-of-body experience.

"No, no one." Dean grumbled, glaring at the people that walked by.

"Where's Sa-" I started to ask.

"Nik," I heard someone say. I spun around and saw Sam walking towards me. His face was cut up and bruised, and there was dried blood on the collar of his jacket.

"Oh thank God," I said under my breath. "Sam, hey, how is-" I was cut off when Sam quickly walked over to me and grabbed me in a tight hug. It wasn't like when he hugged me back at the motel in Manning. This one was different.

One of his arms was around my waist, the other looped under my right arm and crossed my back to hold just under my armpit. He was bending down so he could reach me, but he was also lifting me up to my tiptoes. His head was resting on my shoulder, his face buried in my hair. I was stunned for a second.

Part of me was thinking that I was right, Sam _did_ give good hugs. Another part of me was realizing how _desperate_ this felt. He was squeezing my ribs tightly, so tightly that I'm sure if he squeezed any tighter he'd leave bruises. He kept his head on my shoulder, moving ever so slightly now and then.

After the few seconds of shock wore off and I hugged him back. I pulled one arm around his waist and reached the other up to go around his shoulders. I could to this with almost no awkwardness, but it was still hard because he was too damn tall, even hunched down and me on my tiptoes. When he let out shaky breath against my neck I felt my eyes flutter shut.

I could only imagine how _he_ felt now. His brother had been beaten to a pulp, John looked in pretty bad shape when I saw him in my dream, add a car crash and Dean's spirit floating around, he must really need a hug. I my hand was all but shaking as I carefully slid it up his back to gently pull through the hair at the back of his neck, hopefully he thought it was comforting. Sam didn't protest, so I did it again. He had really soft hair.

"It got away." He mumbled into my hair.

"Wh-Huh?" I asked, my mind had gotten hazy from Sam's hug. _God_ that sounded ridiculous.

"The demon." Sam mumbled again, squeezing me tighter. "It got away. _Again_."

Well now I felt even worse for Sam. I hugged him back tighter, pulling my fingers through the ends of his lengthy brown hair again.

"Hey Sam?" I asked reluctantly, moving to rest my cheek on his shoulder. I would've gladly stayed here for a few more minutes, or hours, either was fine with me. He gave a small 'Hm?' sound.

"Where's Dean?"


	51. Chapter 51

**Well, you know the drill; 5 reviews!**

**And, if I may take a moment to vent a little; I. Hate. Drivers Ed.  
**

**I've had all of one class, and the fact that I'm going to be in a musty church basement for three hours every Saturday, Sunday and Monday afternoon for the next month makes me want to dig a hole and sit in it until someone comes and brings me a blackberry pie, chocolate milk, and maybe a basket of kittens and puppies to play with and lick my face until I feel better. **

* * *

Nikki POV

I was following Sam down one of the hallways. His hands where jammed in his pockets as he walked quickly to Dean's room, I had to take two steps just to match one of his.

"What the hell is going on with me?" I heard Dean yell at me. It took everything I had not to snap at him. I think he knew that, because he kept repeating it over and over, five inches from my ear.

"He, uh, he's in there," Sam said, nodding towards the door. I nodded, waiting for him to go in, when he didn't, I just went in.

I dropped my bag in a chair as I stared at Dean in the hospital bed. "Did-Did the doctor tell you what's wrong with him?" I asked softly. I felt like someone was grabbing my heart and squeezing. And not in a good way. He had tubes running in his nose connected to a ventilator, IVs in his arms, a heart monitor beeped steadily, that was the only comforting thing about this picture.

"The doctor said he lost a lot'a blood, contusions to his liver and kidneys…And he had the early signs of a cerebral edema." Sam said, his voice sounded dead.

I nodded, thankful I took a basic anatomy class in high school, I had an idea of what kind of shit injuries like that could do.

I sat down in the chair next to Dean and took a deep breath.

"What are you doing?" Spirit Dean asked me, sounding…worried.

After I'd calmed myself down and channeled my energy, I grabbed Dean's hand that wasn't connected to anything. "_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_."

"No, Nikki _no_!" Spirit Dean yelled, walking around to stand in front of me. I opened one eye to glare at Spirit Dean.

"Sam! Sammy, man- you can't let her do this!" Spirit Dean yelled at his brother, who was leaning on the doorway, staring at the floor.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_." I recited again, starting to feel a sharp pain in my head.

"Damnit Nikki! You can't do this to yourself! I'm sure you can find some hoodoo in your books so save me, huh? But don't do _this_." Spirit Dean yelled at me, pacing the room.

"_Corpore sano, sana animam meam. Do tibi vis, fac me in toto. Magia servo meo male, sicut Deus vult. Ad onera, ad imperium tuum precor supernae dilectionis tuae deum laver_." I said, the pain was getting uncomfortable.

"Damnit Nikki!" Spirit Dean yelled again, this time swinging his arm in a way that would have yanked all the vertical blinds off the window. Instead, they just swayed nosily.

Sam must have looked up because I heard him inhale sharply. "Nikki, stop it." He practically ordered me, grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from Sleeping Dean's.

"Why?" I asked him, standing up. "I could _save him_, Sam!" I whispered as doctors passed the open door.

"Nik do you know what happened to you after you passed out on Bobby's couch?" Sam asked me, his jaw was clenching and unclenching as he waited for me to answer.

"Well, n-no-" I admitted.

"You got a fever over a hundred and six, your heart started racing so fast we almost took you to the hospital. Then, you're fever dropped dangerously low, your breathing got shallow and your heart rate got too erratic and slow, at one point we thought you _died._" Sam said this all in one breath, looking up at me with sharp eyes.

"I'm gonna need your help," He added seriously. "I don't need you in a hospital bed too."

I instantly felt guilty after that. I played with the ends of my hair and nodded. "Ok," I said quietly. "Ok, I won't use that spell."

"Thanks," Sam sighed, visibly relieved. "Hey, is your shoulder ok?" He asked randomly.

I shrugged. "Fine, why?"

"When you were passed out you kept trying to roll on your side, mumbling about how it hurt." Sam explained.

"I had a fever and had God knows what kind of magic going on inside me. I wouldn't really rely on anything I said." I reasoned.

Sam shrugged and nodded slightly.

"C'mon! Nik, can't you do anything?" Spirit Dean asked me.

"Uh, I brought Bobby, he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place. Might wanna grab what you want from the trunk." I said, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to be alone in Dean's hospital room. Well, 'alone.'

"Thanks," Sam mumbled, giving me a sad smile as he walked out the door.

I shut and locked it after him and spun around to look at Spirit Dean, who was leaning on the wall, ankles crossed, arms crossed.

"You have the hots for Sammy?" He asked me randomly, like he was asking if it was cloudy outside.

I whipped my head up from my bag and looked at him with wide eyes. "_Excuse me_?"

"It's an easy question." He shrugged. "Do 'ya?"

"I-He-Shut up," I snapped, feeling my cheeks blush. He just chuckled. "And will you please not talk to me when other people are around?"

"Why?"

"'Cause if I answer I'll probably get locked up in here." I snapped, unzipping my backpack.

"Are you gonna help me or not?" Spirit Dean snapped at me.

"Yeah, I'm gonna help you," I waved him off as I grabbed my index. "So what _physically_ happened to you? You passed out in the Impala, then what?"

Spirit Dean seemed to pause and think for a moment before answering with a shrug. "Woke up in a hospital bed."

"You just…woke up." I repeated, pausing in my page flipping.

"Yeah," Spirit Dean nodded.

"Oh." I muttered as I kept flipping. I sighed and slammed the book shut. "You know what? I'm gonna change clothes, _then_ look through this gigantic book."

Spirit Dean rolled his eyes. "Glad to see I'm so high on your list of priorities." He drawled out sarcastically.

I glared at him as I dug out a clean set of clothes. "And don't you _dare_ stick your head through the wall while I'm changing." I said as I walked to the bathroom. Before I shut the door I saw him looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling, then he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Stop thinking about it!" I snapped as I shut the door, hearing him chuckle.

I waited a few minutes before I changed out of the dirty jeans, t-shirt and hoodie, and into a clean pair of jeans and a tank top. I used a few damp paper towels to wipe away the dirt and grime on my face and neck.

I threw them in the trash can with a feeling of frustration and anger that surprised me. I leaned on the sink, an arm on each side, and stared at my reflection. The ring of green flecks that had been growing around my pupil was still there, confirming that it wasn't the motel light. Thankfully, I didn't look as tired as I felt.

_You got the hots for Sammy?_

Dean's word rang and echoes in my head, bouncing around my skull like bouncy balls in a blender.

Part of me felt like I was back in high school, when one of Percy's junior friends asked me, a lowly sophomore, if I liked him. I remember blushing bright red and mumbling 'yes.' The next day he asked me to the homecoming dance; our first date.

Another part of me felt…_guilty_. Very, _very_ guilty. Not the 'I ate the last cookie' guilty, the kind of guilt that grows and grows until it completely consumes you and you break down. It was small now, but it festered and grew when I thought about it. I don't know _why_ I was guilty, this wasn't the worst thing I've done.

I let out a groan and hung my head, pinching my eyes shut. I'll bet this has to do with that soul binding Jane did. I really appreciate that she fought off Hell for me, and bound our souls so I didn't spontaneously combust due to pent up magic, but that whole thing screwed me up.

Yes, I did have a slight preference for Sam over Dean. Yes, his eyes could reduce me to a stuttering mess. Yes, there where was almost nothing I hated about him. But it was _just_ a little crush.

"Hey! You done in there princess?" I heard Spirit Dean call through the door.

I raked a few stray tendrils of hair out of my eyes as I lifted my head and opened the door with an annoyed look on my face. I stalked past him as I tossed my dirty clothes back in my backpack.

I looked over my shoulder at Dean, who was pacing the room, a pensive look on his face. "What happened to you?" I asked, pulling on an old plaid shirt. It was Chris's when he was in high school, I took it God knows how long ago and just never gave it back.

"Just yelled at my dad, didn't even hear me." He muttered. "He was in here. Probably good you took so damn long. He probably wouldn't be your biggest fan right now."

I shrugged, buttoning the bottom buttons on Chris's shirt and pushing the sleeves up to my elbows. I sat in the chair next to Sleeping Dean and pulled the index from my bag again. I started to page through it slowly, reading the pages carefully.

Spirit Dean was obviously going stir crazy. He was still pacing, and he's started to hum something that sounded a lot like The Animals' _The House of the Rising Sun_. He'd even started to tap the side of his leg as he paced.

"Dean?" I eventually called, breaking him out of his little trance.

"Yeah? What? You find something?" He asked. I bet he was _that kid_ in elementary school. You know, the one who got pencils stuck in ceiling tiles and spent the whole class staring out the window and writing swear words on the desks.

"Why don't you walk around," I suggested carefully.

"What? Why? I wanna be here when you find out what the hell is going on." He said, frowning stubbornly.

"Fine," I sighed, turning the page.

When he started mumbling the words to _Traveling Riverside Blues_ I huffed in frustration. "Ok, shut up or get out." I snapped at him. He looked at me in surprise.

"I thought you liked Led Zeppelin." He all but pouted.

"I do, but not when I'm trying to figure out why you're acting like Casper." I snapped. Dean rolled his eyes and walked to the door. When he reached out to grab the door knob, his hand went right through it. He looked over his shoulder expectantly. I groaned and opened the door for him.

"Casper?" Dean repeated as he walked down the hall. "Really, _Casper_? Could'a said 'why you're pulling a Swayze' but _no_, I get _Casper_."

"Ass." I muttered, leaving the door open as I walked back to my chair.


	52. Chapter 52

**In honor of tonight episode, the next chapter!**

**Expect next chapter next Tuesday, sooner if you guys can get 5 reviews. :)**

_**~Christianne**_

* * *

Nikki POV

I was still paging through the book when Sam came into the room. He had an angry look on his face, and a duffle bag over his shoulder.

"My dad in his room?" He asked me, his tone was straining to be polite, but there was a clear angry undertone.

"Uh…Yeah, as far as I know, why?" I asked, getting up and shoving the leather bound index back in my backpack. Sam didn't say anything, he just turned on a heel and walked out of the room.

"Sam?" I asked, surprised. Something must have really pissed him off.

"Sam!" I called, quickly walking behind him, trying to catch up. He still didn't say anything.

"_Sam_!" I said again, this time grabbing his arm. We were only a few rooms away from John's, so I lowered my voice. "_What_ is going on?"

Sam shook off my hand and glared at the ground. "I gotta few things to say to my dad." He mumbled, jaw clenched.

"Oh," I said softly, wanting to reach out and squeeze his hand or something, but didn't. I silently followed him as he stalked into John's room. I saw Spirit Dean in the corner, he did _not_ have a happy look on his face.

I stayed by the door frame, pulling the sleeves of Chris's flannel down over my fingers, worried about what I'd just invited myself too.

"What's going on?" Spirit Dean demanded. When I didn't say anything, he started talking, not just to me, mostly into Sam.

"Look, there's something in the hospital." Spirit Dean said. "Now, you gotta bring me back, and we gotta hunt this thing!"

"C'mon Sam!" Spirit Dean said, looking at his brother, then to me. "Nikki, you gotta tell them you can hear me! You gotta get this mother!"

I clenched my jaw and kept my gaze on Sam.

"Wow," Spirit Dean scoffed. "What good is it to have a witch on our side if you can't help save me!?" He yelled the last part in my face.

That, felt like a slap in the face. I just clenched my jaw again, blinking rapidly to avoid any tears. I was working as fast as I could, but the index was complicated and difficult to follow at times. There was only so much I could do at this point. Add the new emotional turmoil inside created by Spirit Dean's question about Sam, the already there emotional turmoil from Jane's soul binding and trying to control my potentially explosive powers; I was so overwhelmed, crying sounded like a good idea right about now. I just took a slow, deep breath and glued my gaze to Sam.

"You're quiet." John said from his hospital bed.

Sam turned around and angrily threw the green duffle bag at John's feet. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

"What?" John asked. I could tell he was lying. He knew exactly what Sam was talking about, even if I didn't.

"That stuff you had me get from Bobby. You don't use it to _ward off_ a demon, you use it to _summon_ _one_." Sam snapped. My eyes widened and I looked at John in shock. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, and having some stupid macho showdown."

"I have a plan, Sam," John said firmly.

"_That's exactly my point_!" Sam yelled. "Dean is dying, and you _have a plan_! You care more about killing this demon than you do _saving your own son_!"

"No no no, guys, don't do this." Spirit Dean said, sounding exasperated.

"Do not tell me _how_ _I_ _feel_. I am doing this for _Dean_." John snapped back.

"How? _How_ is _revenge_ gonna _help_ him?" Sam said, voice raised. "You're thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!"

"C'mon guys, don't do this." Spirit Dean said again.

"Sam," I said softly, trying to keep the thick, broken feeling out of my voice. He didn't look at me. "_Sam_." I said again, trying to get his attention. He glanced at me, jaw clenched, but took a deep breath.

"That's funny," I heard John say sarcastically. "I thought this was your obsession too. That demon killed your _mother_, killed your _girlfriend_. You _begged_ me to be a part of this hunt!

"Now, if you killed that damn this when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" John was yelling now.

I saw Spirit Dean looking between his brother and father, unable to do anything.

"It was _possessing_ you. I would have killed you too!" Sam yelled back.

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now." John snapped.

"Shut up, both of you!" Spirit Dean yelled. He looked at me. "_Do_ something!" He yelled angrily.

"Sam-" I started to softly say again.

"Go to Hell." Sam said, his voice returning to it's normal volume. I can't say I wasn't a little shocked at Sam's words.

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew this was a mistake." John snapped at John, then looked at me. "And don't get me _started_ on you-"

"I said '_Shut_ _up_!'" Spirit Dean yelled, this time swing his arm to hit a glass of water off the table. It flew to the floor.

I saw Spirit Dean hit the glass, but to Sam and John, it was just a glass flying off the table. They both froze, staring at the water. Spirit Dean looked down at his hands, shocked.

"Dude, I full-on Swayzed that mother." Spirit Dean said, stunned as he looked at Sam. He looked at me with a grin. It faltered, turning almost pained as he put a hand to his stomach. I opened my mouth to ask if he was ok, but shut it right away. I just sent him a worried glance. He fell to his knees, his green eyes looked scared and his face in pain. I never thought I'd see Dean _scared_. Well, I had seen him scared, but this was a different type of fear; scared to die.

He tried to talk, but Spirit Dean flickered, like Jane did. He kept looking at me with confused, scared green eyes, until he flickered out completely.

"S-Some-Something's wrong," I said, feeling like I've been punched in the throat.

Sam looked at me, clearly concerned as I fumbled with the door knob. Once the door was open, I saw people running and talking quickly as they rushed towards Dean's room.

I was about to take off towards Dean's room, but I paused and grabbed Sam's sleeve to tow his with me. He stumbled a bit, off balance and surprised from me pulling him. Sam easily kept up with me, walking quickly to keep up with my quick jog.

I heard the horrifying buzz of a flat lining heart rate monitor as I skidded to a stop as Dean's door. I saw a few nurses and a doctor around his bed, paddles to his chest.

"Clear." The doctor said, then Dean's body jolted up before falling slack.

"No." I heard Sam say behind me. He stood next to me, pulling his wrist from mine to tightly weave his fingers through mine. When they shocked Dean a second time I felt my knees buckle and I fell against the door frame. Sam, somewhat roughly, pulled on our linked hands, spinning me so I was pressed to his chest, face buried in his blood-stained jacket. Our hands stayed together, and his other arm pressed to the middle of my upper back. I think I would have fainted at the intensity of the gesture if I hadn't been filled with so much grief.

They saved me. Sam and Dean Winchester saved me. And now, there wasn't a damn thing I could do to save one of them.

I felt like it was my fault. I was the witch. I could see the future. I could have, should have, found some way to stop this. And I didn't.

I heard them shock Dean again, Sam squeezed me so hard I thought he was going to dislocate something when his brother's body jolted again.

"Still no pulse!" A nurse said. That's when I felt how jagged Sam's breathing was. I looked up as saw his eyes watering.

"Clear." The doctor said again, rubbing the paddles together. Still nothing.

"Nikki," I heard Spirit Dean say lowly. "Nik I know you can hear me, there's-there's something there, something over me!" He said urgently in my ear.

I hesitantly peeked over my shoulder and my eyes grew wide as I saw the transparent, ghostly figure over Sleeping Dean.

"Charging." A nurse said, handing the doctor the charged paddles.

I shivered and pressed into Sam's chest as the ratted, robed figure let out a low growl.

"Clear!" The doctor said, rubbing the paddled together again.

"You get the hell away from me." I heard Spirit Dead say lowly as he stalked towards the figure.

"Stay back!" He yelled.

I felt Sam's hand press harder on my back, his whole body rigid, his face looking shattered.

"There's no change. Starting CPR." The doctor said, giving the paddle to a nurse.

"I said get back!" Spirit Dean yelled again. I saw Sam look to the left, where Spirit Dean was, almost like he heard something.

Did he _hear_ Spirit Dean?

I heard a harsh snarl, and the sound of Spirit Dean being shoved into a wall. Since my cheek was pressed to Sam's shirt, eyes facing the doorway, I saw the figure as it passed. Its dark eyes looked at me like it wanted to rip my throat out, and growled lowly at me as it passed.

I felt myself squeezing Sam's hand tighter as I watched Spirit Dean take off after the figure.

"We have a pulse!" A nurse announced. "We're back into sinus rhythm." I felt Sam physically relax and his hand drop from my back, but his hand didn't leave mine.

We waited until all the doctors where gone, and even then we still waited at the door.

"Sam, you gotta let me heal him." I whispered into his shirt after a few minutes of silence.

"No." Sam said firmly.

"My-My roommate back at Yale was a med student, I know a person can't go through something like that twice. I know you kinda need me out here, but if I just do the spell a few times, maybe I can-"

"Nikki." Sam said, cutting me off as he took a step back, putting his hands on my shoulders and leaned his battered face closer to mine. Even though his face was serious, those kaleidoscope eyes didn't lie; he was worried. Obviously about Dean, but about me too.

"Dean-Dean's gonna be fine. Like I told you before, I don't need _you_ in a hospital bed too. I know you wanna help, I do. Help _me_ by not ending up in a room here." Sam said, his voice was low.

I was glad I was against the door frame, because I thought my knees where gonna give out as I looked up at him. Even beat up and tired he was still better looking than Percy and the number of guys who'd shown an interest in me during college.

"You-You gotta promise me you won't try that spell again." Sam spoke again, his brows pulled together and turned up in the middle as he leaned closer to me.

I looked up at him, wide eyed and stunned from the power of those puppy dog eyes. I nodded dumbly and managed to squeak out 'Ok.'

Sam's face flickered into a relieved, small smile. He squeezed my shoulders once before walking away, leaving me stunned and leaning on the door frame of Dean's room.

_You have the hots for Sammy?_ Spirit Dean's words started ringing in my head again, like bouncy balls in a blender.

_Do 'ya?_

Yup. Damn straight I do. It's not just an attraction thing that a quick lay would end either.

_I was falling for him_.


	53. Chapter 53

**First things-first; Sorry that I didn't post yesterday! It was just one'a those days, you know? I mean, I came home from school and took a four hour nap. **

**But, I'm posting now! It's a little short, I'll probably post tomorrow. Maybe. Depends on if I have stuff to do. *Shrug*  
**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Nikki POV

"I'm getting' that thing before it gets me."

I jumped when I heard Spirit Dean spoke behind me.

"Jeez," I gasped, putting a hand over my heart in surprise.

"It's some kind of spirit, but I could _grab_ _it_." Spirit Dean said, pacing around the hospital room.

"Uh-huh." I mumbled, looking back at my index.

"If I can grab it, I can kill it." Spirit Dean kept ranting, still pacing four feet from his sleeping form.

"Uh-huh." I mumbled again, not looking at him.

"Have anything yet?" He asked, looking over my shoulder.

"Uh-uh." I mumbled, getting up and moving a chair away from him.

"Ok, what the hell is your problem?" Spirit Dean finally said, voice raised. I almost flinched from the sudden noise, I caught myself before I did. My nose twitched though.

"Nuthin'," I mumbled, flipping the page.

"Liar." Spirit Dean snapped, moving to stand in front of me. "What the hell is goin' on with you?"

I stayed silent, turning a few pages before I spoke. "'What good is it to have a witch on our side if you can't help save me'." I repeated his words flatly. Spirit Dean didn't say anything.

"I-I'm trying my best, you know that, right?" I asked, peeking up at him. "I mean, I'd use the healing spell in a heartbeat if Sam would let me." I added. Spirit Dean looked at the chair next to me, and gave the arm a testing touch. His hand went right through it.

He groaned and squatted down next to me. "Uh, look, Nik, I'm sorry-"

"Just-Just don't, Dean," I mumbled, pulling my legs up on my chair so I sat cross-legged.

"No, just listen to me, will you?" Spirit Dean grumbled, frustrated. I frowned and ignored him. He let out something that I can only call a growl as he stood up. "I was pissed, ok? My dad and Sam buttin' heads over _everything_, **now**, I was pissed-Not at _you_!"

I watched him pace around as he spoke. At one point I thought he was going to rip his stitches out from how hard his hands where scrubbing his face.

"Dean." I finally said, cutting him off. He stopped, both arms up and out, hands linked behind his head. "Its-Its fine." I said, shrugging my shoulders a little. "We're cool."

Spirit Dean nodded, his arms dropping. "You got anything?" He asked, looking over my shoulder again.

I rolled my eyes. I'd forgotten about his 'No Chick Flick Moments' rule.

* * *

"What do you mean you felt something?"

I was on my way back from the cafeteria with a doughnut and a cup of cheap tea when I heard John. I stopped outside the half-closed door to listen.

"I mean, it felt like…Like _Dean_. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something." Sam told his dad. I felt a small tinge of pride, they were having an _actual_ _conversation_. "I don't know if it's my psychic thing or what. But do you think it's even possible? Do you think his spirit could be around?"

"Anything's possible," I heard John say. _I have to agree_, I thought as I bit into my doughnut.

"Isn't that right, Nikki?" I heard John say. I froze, the doughnut still in my mouth. I didn't even move when Sam opened the door wider. He chuckled when he saw me, frozen with a big powdered doughnut in my mouth.

"Is it?" Sam asked me, gently ushering me into John's room.

"Is 'aht 'aht?" I asked, my mouth full. "Is what what?" I asked once I'd swallowed.

"I know you heard," Sam said knowingly, hands in his pockets.

"Humor me." I said, taking another bite of the large doughnut I had, buying time so I could think of something.

Sam rolled his eyes, but asked me anyway. "Is it possible that Dean's spirit is…_around_?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah it's _possible_. Why, though, is a whole another story though."

"What'd'ya mean why?" Sam asked, his eyes sparking curiously.

"Well, not _all_ comatose people's spirits are wandering around," I reasoned, trying to be vague. "I guess Dean's just one of God's _special_ _little_ _people_." I said sarcastically at the end, Sam rolled his eyes again.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Sam said cryptically, giving me a small smile before turning to leave John's room.

"Where are you going?" John called as Sam left.

"Gotta pick something up, I'll be back." He said, then turned to me. "Can I borrow your car?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, slightly confused. I dug the keys out of my back pocket and tossed them to him. I envied how easily he caught them. "'78 gray Ford Cougar, parked in the back."

"Got it," he said with a nod of his head before he left, leaving me standing awkwardly in John's room.

I glanced at John as I took a sip of my tea. I'd put so much milk and sugar in it I couldn't taste the tea, which was a good thing.

I slowly started to leave to room, when John decided to speak up. "So, what's going on with you and my son?"

I inhaled sharply, and choaked on the powdered sugar on the doughnut I'd been bringing to my mouth. I coughed a few times, then foced myself to take a drink of my tea before slowly turning to look at John. "Come again?"

"You and Sam," he clarified. "Anything I should know about?"

My eyes widened and I felt a nervous laugh start to come out. "Where-Where would you get that idea?"

He just shrugged. "A father knows." I blanked on what to say next, so I just stared at John with wide eyes.

He eventually chuckled once and looked out the window on the other side of the room. "Never mind." He sighed.

I wasn't sure if I was insulted or not, but I took the option to leave.


	54. Chapter 54

**Hello again! Another chapter up! I'll be getting more into season 2 in the next couple of chapters, and I'm having a bit of a hard time. **

**If any one has any ideas or suggestions, leave them in a review or privet message me! If I like it and decide to use it, you get a shout out! :)  
**

**Well, 5 reviews! Or, Tuesday. *Shrug***

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Nikki POV

I sat back in the chair next to Sleeping Dean, with Spirit Dean looking over my shoulder as I paged through the index.

I'd already looked though it once, but Dean hadn't, and he couldn't even turn the pages. So I was finishing my doughnut and turning the pages when Spirit Dean muttered 'Turn.'

"Wait, wait that's it." He said, leaning closer to the book. "What's it say?" Turns out normal people couldn't read my books, but they could see the pictures.

"Ohhh…" I trailed off. "Wrong choice, pick another."

"What's it say Nik?" Spirit Dean demanded.

"Reapers," I said. "Servants of death. They maintain the Natural Order-"

"Yeah, yeah I know what they are," Spirit Dean muttered, walking away from the book.

"Oh, yeah, the healer," I suddenly remembered. Sam had told me about most of their past hunts in the numerous phone calls we'd had before I had the Manning vision.

"He told you about that?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," I said slowly.

"And…You…Never mind." Spirit Dean muttered, starting to pace again. "'ya know, I bet Sammy would be a lot easier to be around if you two just did each other." He said randomly.

I choked on the air I was inhaling. "_Dean_!" Was all I could manage.

"What?" He asked innocently, shrugging his shoulders a little

"Ass." I muttered, shutting the book. I heard a small chuckle from the door. I looked up and saw Sam walking in, a paper bag in hand. I don't think I've ever blushed so red. Spirit Dean chuckled, a smirk on his face.

"Mad about me taking the car?" He asked, tossing the keys back.

I shrugged and threw the keys into my backpack. "Talkin' to him." I said, nodding my head towards Sleeping Dean.

Sam nodded slightly, looking sadly at his brother. "Hey." He said, looking down at Sleeping Dean. I saw Spirit Dean roll his eyes, I sent him a sharp glare.

"I think you're around, and if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but, um..." Sam trailed off, pulling a box from the bag. "But there's one way we can talk."

"Oh you gotta be kidding me," Spirit Dean groaned, seeing the Ouija Board Sam had gotten. I sent Spirit Dean another sharp look. Sam sighed and sat on the floor in front of Sleeping Dean's Hospital bed, taking the board and pointer out of the box. He looked up at me expectantly. I groaned and sat on the floor next to him.

Spirit Dean was grinning down at us, shaking his head condescendingly. I glared at him, trying to mimic his kidney-liquefying glare. I probably looked like an angry kitten. I put the tips of my fingers on the corner of the pointer opposite Sam.

"Dean?" Sam asked thin air. "Dean are you here?"

"God…I feel like I'm at a slumber party." Spirit Dean griped as he walked to the other side of the board. I sent him another glare and he sat down, cross-legged opposite us. "This isn't gonna work." Spirit Dean sighed sharply and put his fingertips on the other side of the pointer. His brows seemed to furrow in concentration as he slowly pulled it to 'YES.'

Sam let out a quiet, astonished gasp, and Spirit Dean looked just as surprised. He let out a chuckle. "I'll be damned."

"Oh, it's good to hear from you man." Sam said, still smiling. "Hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Damn straight." Spirit Dean muttered.

Sam shifted slightly, a smile on his face. It was the kind of smile that sorta lit up his whole face and made his eyes sparkle. Sitting next to him, I couldn't help but blush a little; my left side was completely pressed against his right side. He was warm. Through his shirt, jacket, and my shirt I could feel the heat coming off his body. Sam was like a walking, talking, really good looking space heater.

"All right," Spirit Dean said, moving the pointer.

"Dean, what?" Sam asked, sounding surprised as Spirit Dean started to move the pointer. As he did, he was looking me right in the eye, a smirk on his face.

H…U…N…

"Hunt?" Sam guessed. I kept giving Spirit Dean annoyed looks, he was just having too much fun with this; staring at me and knowing that I couldn't say anything about it. "Or…Hunting?…Are you hunting?"

YES

"Dean, it's in the hospital, what are you hunting?" Sam asked, I bit the inside of my cheek as Spirit Dean started to spell again. "Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude," Spirit Dean said, glancing at me.

"He has to spell it out. That may be a bit difficult for him, just ask one at a time," I said to Sam. He laughed once, just a short breath through his nose and a little turn-up at the edge of his mouth, but Dean was giving me that kidney-liquefying glare that I couldn't replicate.

"What is it?" Sam asked. He can be so impatient.

"I don't think its killing people." Spirit Dean said, pulling the pointer to R.

"I think it's taking them…

E

"You know, when…

A

"When their time is just up."

P

"Reaper," Sam said quietly. "Dean?...Is it after you?"

I looked down at my lap, I couldn't look at Sam's face; it was like a kicked puppy, only sadder.

YES

After Spirit Dean moved the pointer, he pulled his hands away.

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it." Sam said slowly.

"Yeah," Spirit Dean sighed. "You can't kill Death."

"Man, you're, uh…" Sam trailed off.

"I'm screwed, Sam." Spirit Dean said bluntly. I had to look away from both brothers now. It just wasn't fair.

"No. No no no no no," Sam said as he got up. "There-There's got to be a way. Dad will know what to do."

I stayed on the floor as he walked out, Spirit Dean too. I sighed and looked across the board at him. "What are you gonna do?" I asked softly.

He shrugged. "Well…He's right, no way to stop it."

I shook my head and got up. "No, no Sam's right, there _has_ to be a way to stop a reaper."

I jogged out of the room, following Sam. I skidded to a stop beside him, outside his father's room. I got on my tiptoes to look over his shoulder.

John's bed was empty.

* * *

"Hey, so dad's not in his room," Sam said as we walked into Sleeping Dean's room. He sat on the edge of the bed, I stood on the other side. "But, I got his journal, so, who knows? Maybe there's something in here."

I stood behind Sam, looking over his shoulder at John's journal. I looked up when Spirit Dean spoke. "Thanks for not givin' up on me, Sammy."

I smiled a bit.

"You too Nik." Spirit Dean added. I smiled a little wider and glanced up at him.

Sam, of course, was oblivious to this little conversation and flipped through the journal until he found something on Reapers. Spirit Dean, who was behind me, grumbled about not being able to read.

I held in the urge to roll my eyes and turned the journal slightly in Sam's hands so 'I' could see better.

"Son of a bitch." Spirit Dean hissed, storming out of the room.

"Hey, I'll-I'll be right back," I said quickly to Sam before taking off after Spirit Dean.

"Slow down!" I hissed under my breath. "What's going on?"

"Nikki, go back in the room with Sam, and stay there, ok?" Dean said, still marching down the hallway.

"No!" I whispered. "Not until you tell me what's going on!"

"Nik, I'm not _telling_ you to go back in my room with Sam, I'm _asking_ you to stay in the room with Sam." He said, stopping.

I looked up at him, surprised. If he was _asking_ me, he **really** didn't want me to go with. I sighed and crossed my arms. "Fine. _But_ _you_ _better_ _come_ _back_." I said lowly.

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you're worried."

"About you? Do I _look_ stupid?" I asked, smiling weakly at him before I turned to go back to Dean's room.

* * *

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Sleeping Dean's room, my head resting on one of the plastic chairs as the steady pump of Sleeping Dean's ventilator slowly lulled me to sleep.

"Couldn't find anything in dad's journal," I heard Sam say. He must have thought I was asleep. "Nikki didn't find anything…I-I don't know how to help you."

Sam paused and I heard what I think was fabric moving around. I almost jumped when I felt something warm, almost hot, drape over me. I kept my eyes close and let Sam carefully tuck his jacket over my shoulders. My fingers curled around the edges as I pulled it closer.

"But I'll keep trying, Nik too, as long as you keep fighting." Sam started chuckling slowly. "I mean, come on, you can't…You can't leave me alone with dad. We'll kill each other. You know that, and Nikki's to nice to really bitch at us to shut up."

"Dean…Man, you got to hold on." Sam said after a few beats of silence. "You can't go, Dean, not now…We were just starting to be brothers again."


	55. Chapter 55

**Hi there! **

**Sorry I took so long to update, school was all crazy and messed up this past week. **

**I also wanna give a big virtual hug to all the people who have reviewed this story! And I don't just give out hugs to anyone, virtual or real-life, you're pretty awesome and special if you get one. :)**

**5 reviews!**

**~_Christianne_**

* * *

Nikki POV

"_Dean_!"

Choking noises.

"Help! I need help in here!"

I jolted up, scrambling to my feet while pulling Sam's jacket over my shoulders…I was cold.

Sam had this…this _look_ on his face, like he didn't know whether to grin and laugh or cry. I just squeezed his forearm, smiling up at him. He glanced at me with that teary eyed grin and grabbed my hand in his, weaving his fingers through mine easily as he squeezed it.

Now, I was happy for two reasons.

* * *

"All the internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good, you've got to have some kind of angel watching over you." The doctor said, looking at his clipboard.

"Thanks, Doc," Dean sighed as the doctor left.

"You said a reaper was after me?" Dean asked, going back to the conversation we'd been in the middle of when the doctor came in.

Apparently, Dean didn't remember a thing.

"Yup." I nodded, tossing Sam's jacket onto a chair, pulling the plaid sleeve over my fingers as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"How'd I ditch it?" He asked.

"You got me," Sam said, shrugging.

"You really don't remember _anything_?" I pressed gently.

"No…Except this pit in my stomach…Something's wrong." Dean said, I could tell he meant it.

Before, I was annoyed that Dean had made me realize I really had thing for his brother; I knew he'd tease me about it. But now that he was clueless to it, it made me wish he'd remember. Granted, he might've locked me and Sam in a closet for a forced game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, but it's just the weight of it. Wanting to tell someone something just so it's not all on you.

A knock on the door frame made me look up, and seeing who it was made me step back.

"How you feelin' dude?" John asked.

"Fine, I guess." Dean answered, shrugging a little. "I'm alive."

John had a smile on his face. A _smile_. Granted, it was a little one, but it was still a smile. s"That's what matters."

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked, upset.

John's gaze flickered to Sam, and his smile faltered a little. "I had some things to take care of."

"Well, that's specific," Sam scoffed.

"Sam," I lightly scolded, sending him a look.

"Come on, man," Dean complained from his hospital bed.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asked, not letting up.

"No." John said eventually. I believed him.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam asked, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.

John sighed, shaking his head slightly as he took a few more steps into the room. "Can we not fight?" He asked.

"You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't even know what we're fighting about." John said, almost laughing as the smile came back on his face. "We're just butting heads. Look, Sammy, I've…I've made some mistakes, but I've always done the best I could."

He paused and looked at Dean. "I just don't want to fight anymore, ok?"

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam asked, sounding worried, almost scared.

"Yeah," John said, his smile briefly growing bigger. "Yeah, just a little tired…Hey, son, would you mind, uh-would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, looking stunned and deep in thought. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll go with," I said quickly, looking down as I passed John.

"Nikki," he said, stopping me just before I walked out the door. I looked up at him expectantly, ready to take the blame for Dean being comatose, unrest in the Middle East or Global Warming.

"Thanks," John said after a brief pause.

"I-I-You…Uh…What?" I finally got out, confused beyond belief.

"Thank you," John repeated. "For…Your help. With the vampires, Dean…" He trailed off.

I was at a complete loss. I had no idea what to say to him. My arms dropped to my sides as I looked up at him.

"Uh, well…your welcome?" It came out like a question. John gave me that little smile he'd given Sam earlier and nodded for me to go. I didn't move until Sam put a hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me out the door.

"Do you know what that was about?" I asked Sam as we walked to the cafeteria.

"No, not a clue," he said, shaking his head.

We walked in silence to the cafeteria, my arms crossed over my chest again and Sam's hand stuffed in his jacket pockets. Neither of us said anything while Sam got a cup of coffee from the machine.

"Something's not right." I said, breaking the silence on the way back to Dean's room.

"I know." Sam answered, not looking at me.

I frowned and glanced up at him. He wouldn't let me use the spell to fix his face, Dean either. Just reciting it a few times wouldn't do me any harm.

I was so deep in thought I ran into Sam, who had stopped in the middle of the hallway. The coffee cup Sam had been holding dropped to the floor. I quickly sputtered out apologies, but Sam didn't say anything. I followed his gaze and gasped as I saw what he did.

"Dad?" Sam said, rushing over to his father, who was currently on the floor of an empty room, not moving.

I went to his other side as Sam yelled for help. I grasped John's hand to start the incantation, but it wouldn't connect. He was gone.

I fell back, sitting on the floor until Sam grabbed picked me up as he was pushed from the room. I stayed at the door as doctors started compressions and Sam went to get Dean.

A nurse was about to tell Sam and Dean to go away, but Dean spoke up. "No, no it's our dad…It's our dad!" He repeated, harsher the second time when the nurse tried to push them out again.

The buzzing flat line rang in my ears. I didn't even comprehend what the doctor where yelling. I just kept looking from John, to Sam and Dean's horrified looks.

"I'll call it." One doctor said, stopping the compressions on John's chest and looked at his watch.

"Time of death, 10:41 am."


End file.
